A Fine Line
by Sincerely Tiffany
Summary: She's a lawyer, and she also happens to be the daughter of the president of the United States. He's a famous rockstar, and he also happens to be known for his womanizing and bad boy ways. Two polar opposite worlds collide when two polar opposite people fall in love. Linstead AU.
1. Coffee Stain

If only Erin had pulled down her designer shades from off the top of her head to shield her eyes; she probably would have seen him. If only she wasn't focused on her cell, texting her brother to remind him of their plans for brunch today; she probably would have noticed him. If only the sunlight didn't blind her eyes, the coffee didn't distract her taste buds and the four secret service men beside and behind her weren't so close, she definitely would have saw him before colliding with his hard body.

On the other hand, Jay was partly to blame too. If only he wasn't currently talking on the phone to his manager –his own brother- then he would have seen her walking down the sidewalk. If his fans weren't currently calling his name, he would have heard her heels against the pavement. If his brother wasn't on the phone, nagging him about changing the band's image then he definitely would have saw her before crashing into her. To be honest, it's probably more his fault than hers; she may have been distracted but he was distracted and rushing down the sidewalk. Tomorrow night he had a concert here in the nation's capital and he was currently almost an hour late for rehearsal at the arena –another reason why his brother was shouting in his ear. He had been more focused on making it to the coffee shop in time to avoid a lecture from his brother than actually concentrating on where he was going.

So, naturally, he'd walked straight into her. And if it wasn't for the two men beside her and the two men behind her, she would have most likely fallen.

It's mid-April; it's a sunny day. It's a beautiful day that practically nears perfection until this moment happened, until he saw her brown, warm beverage spill onto her short, yellow lace dress, until he looked up and realized exactly who he bumped into and until he saw her guards, step in front of her, holding their hands up to keep him away, "Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to take a step back," it's Antonio Dawson who is the first to speak up, warning the guitarist away from her petite frame, "either you step away or we'll carry you away."

And that's when this day, suddenly starts to appear better when he hears her voice, "Calm down guys," she pushes through them, "it was an accident." None of the guards appeared too happy about the situation but they did slightly relax.

"Ms. Voight, I am so sorry," it was probably, honestly, most definitely, the first time in a long time since he's apologized for anything. This time though, he didn't mind it one bit. It came rather naturally. Jay looked into her eyes and he knew from that moment that he was willing to apologize even if they were both to blame.

"It's alright," she assures him. Atwater reaches into his suit jacket and withdraws a few napkins, handing them over to her and earning a smile of gratitude.

"And sorry to your guards," if his brother could see him now then he wouldn't believe it. Two apologies in the span of a minute, that's definitely record breaking for him.

Erin waves his apology away as if it was no big deal, as if her dress wasn't currently stained by her warm beverage, as if it wasn't his fault and as if it didn't even need to be said, "My guys can be a little overprotective, but they mean you no harm," she takes a pause, considering her words before correcting them, "they mean you no harm unless you mean me harm."

Jay had heard her words but his focus had been primarily on _my guys_. The First Daughter of the country had done an interview last month that his friend's wife –Kimberly Burgess- had on the television of their tour bus. Kim was a huge fan of her philanthropy, of her work ethic and of her in general, basically everything about her. Erin Voight was the reason Kim voted for her father. If Erin were to ever run for presidency in the future, she was guaranteed the vote of Kimberly Burgess. Dedicated and considered as her biggest fan, if his friend's wife could see him now, talking to the one person she would die to meet, she wouldn't know what to do, how to react, what to think. She knew everything about her, watched all her interviews, including the one that he had happened to overhear. In this interview that Jay didn't particularly want to hear but had no choice but to listen as he relaxed on the couch in their band's tour bus, he had heard her raspy, angelic voice answer the interviewer's questions. One of the questions pertaining to the interviewer picking up on the terminology Erin used when referring to her secret service men –the my guys- had piqued her interest. Photos of their close relationship, of that fine line between protecting her and befriending her were shown on the talk show and all she was able to do was smile and nod, assuring the audience that those were in fact her guys, her friends, and her family.

She laughed lightly in present time and it broke him out of his reverie. His face was burning bright red, sweat beads forming against his forehead from the burning sun. He looked up at her guys and they're back to being behind her and beside her, face stoic as if nothing happened. If she didn't refer to them as her guys, he never would have assumed these were the same men she described in her interview. These men were intimidating; they appeared strong, tough, locked, loaded and ready to defend Hank Voight's daughter against any threat of physical, emotional and bodily harm. He commended them for that. Just by looking at her, even though he barely knew her, Jay knew that he didn't want to see her hurt in any way.

He barely recognized himself right now. His mouth was dry. He was sweating. His heart was palpitating. He was at a loss for words. This feeling, what his body is currently going through right now, was all new territory for him. This wasn't him; this isn't like him. He's not one of those guys, one of those people who find themselves speechless at the sight of a beautiful woman. He was the guy who had that effect on everyone; it was never the other way around. Jay didn't know who he was but somehow, for some reason, her bright smile, dimples appearing against her cheeks, helps him find his voice to finally respond after a stretch of silence, "Let me pay for your dry cleaning; I ruined your dress. It's the least I can do."

She looked down at it, and sighs in frustration, "That's okay. This is lace and my mom knows a little trick to get stains out of lace."

"Erin," one of the guards behind her –Roman- leans forward to whisper in her ear, "we should be leaving. We're running behind schedule. And you told us to make sure you stay on schedule."

"Let me buy you another drink then." He's technically an hour late for rehearsal and really doesn't have the time but he doesn't fucking care. He's with a beautiful lady –the president's daughter- and she could have all the time with him that she wanted. And besides, he was already an hour late, what would a few extra minutes more hurt.

"We really must be leaving," her fourth guard –Sorensen- asserts from her left side.

Atwater nods, "You're late for brunch with your brother."

"…maybe a raincheck then?" She hears her guards but what they said didn't require a response. She extends her hand; her manicured, white painted nails appearing bright in the sunlight, "until next time Mr. Halstead."

"You know who I am?"

"I've heard a few songs."

He realizes that her hand is patiently waiting for his to shake, "And what did you think?" Jay casually shakes her hand, reminding himself to keep his emotions suppressed and not act like it's such a big deal. Even though, holy shit, he's making contact with the first daughter. And she initiated this contact, and now his thoughts are rambling again.

"I think I have to go," she unfortunately sighs, "my guys over here are getting impatient and it is best if you stay on their good side, especially if you're planning to take me to get coffee."

From either being used to it, numb by it or purposely overlooking it, neither of them reacted to the paparazzi or the fans' flash photography. Erin actually notices them when she walks past the new guy she officially met. Questions are thrown her way but she just smiles and waves, learning the action from her lifelong experience of being in the public eye. And Jay watches, ignoring the questions being tossed his way just as Erin continues walking along the sidewalk; he hears Sorensen speak into his ear piece, "Phoenix is on the move."

Call him curious but she was definitely the first woman out of many that has piqued his interest, "Phoenix?"

She stops; the warm wind causing for the bottom of her thigh-length dress to blow towards the right, "It's my secret service code name," she turns to face him, running her hands through her loose curls as she decides to expand upon it, "all the first families in the history of the country had one. My dad's the sergeant, my mom's the general and my brother is the rebel. If you personally knew them, you would understand why their code names fit."

"And what about yours?"

"It's a mythical bird that always rises from the ashes of the fire that devours it."

"And that's you?"

Erin walks back towards him, "A Phoenix is immortal. Bursting into flames cannot keep it down; it still rises from the ashes. It never gives up. It's stubborn. It's feisty and it's persistent. I'm not the easiest person to protect because of my need for independence and the occasional isolation. It drives these guys crazy but I always come out on top. Don't I fellas?" They don't react. None of them give a clear reaction to answer her question. If it wasn't for their close distance, Jay may have thought they didn't even hear her rhetorical inquiry.

Sorensen simply approaches and gently wraps his hand around her upper arm, "We should really be going. You wanted us to keep you on schedule. After lunch, you have work and then dinner."

He's right. And she knows it. That's why she doesn't complain when they lead her away.

The designer heels she wore were high enough to give her height and sharp enough to poke through steel; they're expensive enough to feed the homeless and pristine enough to resale at the highest value. She's America's sweetheart. She has dedicated her life to volunteering at charities and helping those who aren't as privileged as she is; she's a civil rights attorney. Erin had always wanted to follow in the footsteps of her dad, but she chose this route instead of politics. She wanted to make a difference –it was a bit cliché, but it was true. Erin took a glance over her shoulder as Dawson opened the backdoor of the black Escalade. She could see him watching her leave and she simply waves to acknowledge him before hopping inside the back of the vehicle.

Jay took a few moments to compose himself, ignoring the lingering glances from bystanders, the shouts from fans and the questions from the paparazzi. He agreed to take a few photos with fans before he disappeared into the coffee shop, trying to focus and do something to keep her out of his mind. His phone had vibrated while he was outside but he ignored it. Now, as he waits in line for his coffee to be prepared, he listened to his message from his brother. It was a continuation; his brother was back to lecturing him on changing his image and the image of the band. Their current image –as reported by most news outlets- was getting old and affecting their sales as Will likes to kindly remind him. Will also loves to remind him and Rixton how Mouse is the good guy in the group and how Ruzek is the only band member in a serious relationship –married to Burgess for a few years now. He was told –along with Rixton- that the one night stands need to stop, the public drinking and intoxication needs to come to an end, the reckless driving and the multiple dates and courtships of many women needs to simply be cut out of their lives. The bad boy behavior –no matter how natural it is or appears to be- needs to end. And that was hard to do when it was in your nature. And as a 28 year old, he was pretty set in his ways.

"Thanks," he takes his cup of coffee and gives the barista a wink of the eye; she swoons just as he realizes that stopping this behavior was easier said than done. It's a part of him. He tried the serious relationship –twice- and neither lasted longer than a month and they both happened to end because of his inability to keep it in his pants –as his brother likes to term it.

-x-

America's sweetheart was settled on the leather seat in the back of the spacious truck. With one leg crossed over the other, she texts her brother, apologizing for running late but assuring him that she was in fact on her way. She finishes up her text and the second she sits her phone down on the cushion beside her, she sees their eyes. Dawson is driving; his eyes are the only ones trained on the city traffic. Sorensen is in the passenger seat, glancing at her from over his shoulder while Atwater and Roman sit across from her, facing her with accusatory eyes, "Spit it out," her arms cross over her chest defensively.

"It's the third year of your father's term," Roman reminded her; he's always been the stickler, the one who always manages to keep her in line, "his campaign manager will be starting reelection strategies so he can be reelected by next November."

"I'm well aware Sean."

"You have to be on your best behavior; no scandals and no acting out."

Her phone vibrates and she glances at the emoji faces Justin had sent her before looking up at her guys, "I'm 26. I grew up in the public eye. I know how to be good. And if I'm not good, I know how to be bad without getting caught."

"That's true," Roman nods, "but that rock star has quite the reputation."

"It's just coffee and we're probably both too busy to even make the coffee date even happen."

"A coffee date," Sorensen picks up on her word choice.

"You guys are too literal," she rolls her eyes and brandishes a smirk on her lips, "You know what I mean; a date on the calendar chosen for us to grab a cup of coffee." She lifts her phone up and in the reflection of the screen; she sees the coffee stain that the media will surely be waiting to attack the second the photos are published so she does what her mother does best –she gets ahead of it. Erin sits up straight, arms stretched out to angle her camera perfectly and smiles, capturing a selfie of herself before posting it onto social media –captioning the photo with an obvious point out of the coffee stain with the added message of her needing to start watching where she's going. Sometimes, it's best to point out the obvious so others –more specifically, the media- doesn't get the chance to do it.

You get ahead of the story before there is a story. One may think something as trivial and insignificant as a coffee stain on a dress wouldn't make headlines but there is always a critic. There is always a detractor, especially in politics, especially on every itty bitty detail that involves a politician and their family, and especially on one who prides herself to create a good image, an image that would make and keep her parents proud. Erin grabs a few more napkins from the clutch she left inside the truck and attempts to rub them against the dried coffee stain; it's a fruitless effort because it does absolutely nothing. Atwater reaches across the seat and takes the napkins from her, "You're fine."

"That's easy for you to say Kevin," she asserts; the horns from the surrounding cars mask the frustration in her voice, "My brother and I go to this bistro, once a month, every month and the paparazzi never fails to be there. They'll be there –waiting."

"They won't get within ten feet of you," Sean guaranteed; he leans forward in his seat and pats her thigh; he's the no nonsense, the stickler and she likes that about him.

Erin doesn't respond; some responses don't require any. She simply gives him a shake of her head, nodding affirmatively that she heard him and appreciates what he said. Erin slides down from the middle seat towards the door just as Dawson parks the truck; she sees two of her brother's guards standing near the front entrance; the other two were most likely inside, standing on either side of the bistro. As soon as the truck is parked, Atwater and Roman step out first, guarding the backdoor as cameramen move towards them. She can't hear what her guys are saying but based on the looks on their faces, she knows it's a warning for the paparazzi to stay back. When they step back –at least ten feet, which is still too close- Atwater opens her door and remains standing in front of it, blocking her from the flashes of lights and blocking her dress from being caught on camera. With Roman to her left, Atwater in front of her, Dawson to her right and Sorensen behind her, they lead her to the building. Her ears are bombarded with questions inquiring about her opinion on her father's healthcare plan, or his foreign policy ideas or even going so far as to ask her about her love life –or lack thereof, and also her career duties outside of being the first daughter and whether or not she'll take up a future in politics.

As they enter the building, Roman and Sorensen remain outside with two of her brother's guards, clearing the area and watching for any suspicious activity. She notices her brother sitting at their usual table, drinking water and waiting patiently for her. His other two guards stand a healthy distance away, close enough to intervene if someone approaches and far enough away to not be able to hear what is said between the two. Erin excuses herself from Dawson and Atwater as they take their usual stances, one near the door and the other near the large bay window; she walks through the rows of occupied tables, ignoring the obvious glances from individuals staring at the coffee stain. She's over it. With her head held high, she makes her way through the tables until she's standing in front of her brother, sitting in his usual seat.

"It's about time," he stands, drawing his arms around her to pull her into a hug; he pressed his lips against her cheek as he felt her arms circle around him.

"Excuse my tardiness," they separate.

"I ordered for us. I figured you wanted your usual," he informs, eyes immediately drawn towards the brown stain covering the front of her lace dress, "Is that supposed to be a fashion statement?"

She shoves his arm, "I stopped to grab my morning coffee and let's just say I had a run in."

"Erin," he retakes his seat, "I'm the headliner. I'm usually the one with not the greatest headlines in the news. Are you trying to one up me?"

"Trust me; this was not done on purpose."

-x-

When you start rehearsal late, it's always an accurate assumption that you'll end rehearsal late. Everything had to be ready for tomorrow night's concert; his reputation may have been questionable, but it doesn't seem to affect his concert sales since every seat in the arena is sold out. Jay moves away from the microphone and pulls the electric guitar from around his shoulders, "We need to adjust the lighting; if it keeps shining like that I'm going to go blind."

Burgess rushes onto the stage, phone in hand and practically bouncing up and down and with no consideration for the rehearsal taking progress, she bounds towards Jay with one thought in mind, "Guys, take five please," she orders.

"Kim, that's my job," Will interrupts, removing the large headphones –the ones that soundproof and protects his ears- from around his head. Kim waves away his complaint in order to rush over to Jay; she's practically beaming from ear to ear, smile so stretched across her face that it looks straining and as if it hurts. She's trying to remain calm, keeping her emotions at bay as the rest of the band approaches, all curious as to why their wardrobe coordinator was currently rambling.

"Slow down," Ruzek whispers, drawing his wife towards him, "use your words."

She turns back to face Jay, "You ran into Erin Voight and you didn't tell me."

"Erin Voight?" Adam repeated until the name registered, "You mean the president's daughter."

"YES," she exclaims, holding out her cell towards him, "TMZ is talking about how you ruined her dress! And I follow her on all social media platforms and she posted this," she nods for him to take her phone, "You should respond."

Jay immediately replies, "Nah, she doesn't want to hear from me. I don't even follow her."

"You do now," she hands him his cell; the exact cell he had left on the charger in his dressing room. Jay snatches his phone from her and pockets it. He has no intention of commenting on that photo. He simply doesn't do things like that.

And when Burgess notices the clear annoyance crossing his features, the little light in her eyes fizzles out, "This is a once in a lifetime thing, Jay," she says; her voice appears to be much calmer and less high-pitched than it was when she first entered, "You were lucky enough to meet her and you don't even realize how much I envy you right now. She's obviously trying to initiate conversation with you and I think you should take her up on it."

"So you're saying, she's trying to start a conversation with me by posting a selfie of herself," he says questioningly and continues when she nods, "not tagging me in the selfie but simply just posting it means she wants me to reach out," Burgess nods with a confident affirmation and it's obvious she's bias towards this whole situation, "I think I'll pass," and while he shows no interest in responding, he does withdraw the phone from his pocket.

Mouse approaches next; his pincher fingers toying with his bottom lip as he strategically thinks of a way to bring up his concerns. It was no secret from the band how the kindest member of the team held a small crush on the president's daughter. It never ventured into deep romantic feelings, but the man did recognize how beautiful she is and how his feelings were built solely on what she does for a living. Mouse takes the phone from Jay's hand and stares down at the image, "When you met her, what was she like?"

"She was cool," Jay nonchalantly shrugs it off.

"Just cool," Kim exclaims, refusing to believe the simple term used to describe her idol, "this woman is pure greatness. You practically ruined her dress and she's posting a photo of it. She's more than just cool, she's down to earth and she's fucking amazing."

He snatches his phone back, "Won't you message her then?"

"I can't just message her out of the blue; she doesn't even know me."

"Did you know that every year since she moved to D.C., she feeds the homeless around Thanksgiving time?" Mouse's excitement over Erin's charity work was amusing; this woman could do no wrong in his eyes and while Jay realizes that while he may not have known that, he would be interested in finding out just what else she does in her spare time. Mouse heads back over to the bass guitar and lifts it up, "Man, I would die just to meet her."

"I would die just to be in the same room as her," Burgess retorted, "And Jay doesn't even appreciate the fact that he literally bumped into her and had a conversation with her while I would give my left lung just to hear her say my name. Geesh," she rubs her forehead, "I sound like an obsessed fan. What is wrong with me?"

Jay is done with this conversation; he twirls his finger in the air and orders another rehearsal session in preparation for tomorrow night. The scene is set up like every other rehearsal. They play through the songs; adjust volumes, lights, spaces on the stage and every other factor that's involved in a successful production. And by the end of rehearsal, four hours had passed and they were all understandably exhausted. Ruzek, Mouse and Burgess had been the first to leave, mainly since Will wanted to speak to him and Rixton over the band's needed image change.

Will had spent all of today preparing himself for this moment –the moment of telling his brother and their close friend that an image change wasn't just a request but a requirement. And they had gathered that by his insistence on them taking a seat before he felt comfortable enough to talk, "We're not getting good publicity."

"I thought all publicity was good publicity," Jay smirks, high-fiving Rixton after his remark.

"Can we please be serious?" Will retorted, pacing back and forth; his hand scratching the back of his head as he thinks of how to proceed, "No more competing to see how many women you can bang. No more speed racing. No more getting pulled over. No more getting into trouble."

Rixton rolls his eyes, "So basically, no more fun?"

"If that's how you want to look at it, no more fun."

"Jay and I aren't down for that, we've built our band on our reputations," Rixton speaks up, voicing his unwavering opinion, "It's who we are and we have no intention of changing it. Now, if that's all you want to talk to us about, there's a bar across the street from the hotel that has my name on it." He disappears before Will has a chance to even respond.

Rixton and Halstead grew up together; they had known each other for a long period of time; their friendship had developed solely on their three major similarities –their love for women, their musical talent and their thrill for adventure and trouble. Their confident personalities, stubborn minds and large egos had caused multiple clashes between the two, creating the love-hate relationship that the band strives on. Mouse was the pushover, the good guy of the group that always had the kindest heart. Ruzek was the married one; the one who girls pined for from a distance as they envied his wife –their wardrobe coordinator. Rixton was the jerk; the one who had absolutely no respect for women –besides Burgess, Natalie and his mother- and had no respect for authority and those in power. After having his heart broken a few years ago when his fiancée left him three days before their wedding to run off with a surgeon, he closed himself off from any and all potential relationships; he swore to only have fun with women, keep them at a distance but allow himself to have his needs satisfied. Halstead, on the other hand, was the mystery that the media couldn't quite figure out; he intrigued them the most. As the lead singer and the electric guitarist in the band, he was the most known, the most wanted and the most interesting. He was a bachelor, living in a penthouse in Chicago with trains of women coming in and out of his reserved hotel room in Chicago almost every time he's home from work. Jay's the guy who doesn't call back after a one night stand; he didn't do emotions or attachments. His career required travel and he was too busy to settle down in a relationship that would never work out; it was best that way.

As Will leaves the meeting next, just as disappointed as when he came, Jay remains. During Will's rant, he had been looking through his phone, googling her name to see their recent meeting being top news. It wasn't every day the first daughter and a rock star literally ran into each other. It wasn't every day America's sweetheart walked around sporting a brown, coffee stain on her bright, yellow lace dress with every amount of confidence that one could possibly muster. He had clicked on the magazine articles –ones that weren't even printed yet- and he saw a photo of his face next to tomorrow's headline. These people worked really fast by the looks of things; this print was going to be at newspaper stands all around the country. And Jay wasn't worried about it, he was more focused on the photo of her –Erin- plastered on the same cover page. And while he was against the idea of commenting under her photo, that picture changes his mind. He switches apps, knowing Burgess had followed her from his account and he scrolls through the few people he actually follows before clicking on her name.

It's not the most recent photo she's posted. Another one of her and her brother –the first son- was posted literally five minutes ago. She was no longer in that yellow dress and now stood poised and graceful in a long, strapless burgundy gown. Her arm was wrapped around the waist of her brother as he stood smiling in a suit. They're in front of a long dinner table –most likely in the white house- and behind them sat dignitaries, representatives and ambassadors. She was glamorous and there was something about her that straightens his posture and dries his mouth. Maybe it was her eyes; when they looked into his, he felt like she could read him, see him for him and overlook his bachelor past and all of the questionable rumors published about him for all the world to pass judgment on. Maybe it was her smile; when she grinned, he felt all of his worries disappear. It could have even been her presence; she turned him into a nervous wreck, all of his years' worth of confidence crumbled away just by standing near her. He leaves that photo and goes over to the one waiting for a comment from him. And when he selects it, he quickly adds a response under the photo, unknowing of what to say, he apologizes and offers once again to pay for her dry cleaning.

And honestly, he didn't expect a reply –especially not one posted less than five minutes later- but he gets one, he smiles at her response, agreeing that she may actually have to take him up on his offer. Apparently, the trick her mother knows to get stains out of lace didn't apply to coffee.

So, he types a quick response, keeping it short and simple: _Tell me when and where._

-x-

Over the period of an hour, their conversation on social media had picked up. She was bored. It was obvious. After work, she was forced to attend a dinner at the white house; she had to help her mother host foreign dignitaries and ambassadors. Fortunately for her, her brother was present and had kept her entertained for most of the night until the speeches started. She couldn't exactly converse with her brother while some powerful figure spoke about trade a few feet in front of her. So, she held her phone on her lap, using the dining table to block the device from the eyes of the guests, her family and the media recording the event for live television.

Erin had reread his last message to her at least fifteen times. It was a comment he wrote under the picture she posted of her and her brother when they had first arrived. _Beautiful._ It reads and she chuckles at the next word, _Spotless_. She knew what the joke was in reference to and luckily for her when she started laughing at it, the speaker had cracked a joke on stage, earning laughter and applause from the listeners. She looks up and claps, joining in as if she had been listening the entire time. She had been about to respond to his comment under her photo but when a notification came through signaling she had a direct, private message, she had curiously opened it up. It's Jay. And his message makes her smile.

 _You know you're on live television right now. –JH_

When Erin looks up, she drops her phone onto her lap, pretending to pay attention as the last speaker approaches the microphone. It's a struggle though, trying to decipher through the accent of the foreign dignitary and some rather complex terms she had never heard before, especially after such a long day had proved to be too difficult to actually watch. Her brother seated beside her is just as lost. Instead of playing on his phone, Justin is pulling at a loose thread attached to his suit jacket. Her phone vibrates again and she manages to keep her head trained on the ambassador while her eyes glanced downward at the screen to read his next reply.

 _Ha, I could tell you read my message. You practically looked up spooked. –JH_

This is entertaining to him. He wasn't the type of guy to watch these things so she knew he was only watching for her. The cameras weren't even trained and focused on her, but she was in the background. And he was watching. At this point of the night, she didn't care who saw her or if she could possibly be spotted on camera, she types out her reply.

 _Are you enjoying the speech? –EV_

 _Must you ask? Of course; I live for these. –JH_

 _What's your favorite part? –EV_

She knew he had no interest in this type of stuff; she grew up around politics all her life and sometimes she found it draining. Case in point is this moment right now.

 _The part where I'm watching you smile at our conversation right now. –JH_

He was flirting. That much was obvious. But, what caught her off guard the most was the fact that she was enjoying it.

 _Are you flirting with me Mr. Halstead? –EV_

 _Maybe. –JH_

 _Well keep it up. –EV_

-x-

Jay sits on his bed, resting inside of his hotel room, away from his bandmates, the media, the paparazzi and everyone else who might want to disturb him. His conversation with Erin had ended over an hour ago and he was bored. He could have hung out with Ruzek and Burgess but he didn't want to be a third wheel. Will had been video chatting with Natalie the last time he dropped in on him in his room. Mouse was already asleep; Jay couldn't blame him, it was past midnight. And he could have gone to the bar with Rixton, but honestly –and for the first time in forever- he wasn't in the mood. He actually preferred lying in his bed messaging Erin than going to the bar to get drunk and more than likely hook up with some random female.

Since the dinner ended, on all major news networks, they were talking about different policies and trade deals discussed. Jay wasn't interested. He had honestly only watched to see her. And he had done just that, once it ended, he flipped through channels, settling on something he swore he would never watch in a million years –celebrity gossip.

For over an hour he watched, listening to the rumor mill swirl with stories of celebrity hookups, breakups and all that falls in between. He had honestly been about to change the channel when his name is said. Apparently, the news thinks he's met his match in Erin Voight, citing and posting their brief social media conversation along with discussing their early meeting –him bumping into her in front of a coffee shop. Fortunately, they were unaware of his and Erin's private messages and that was definitely for the best. The rumors were going on about them, bets were made about a possible courtship –as if this was the 30s- and fans that deemed them a cute couple were already starting to combine their names together. It was weird. This has never happened to him and he honestly didn't know how he felt about it.

Jay grabs his cell off the end table and doesn't even hesitate to private message her. Her response from an hour ago was the last message; he couldn't think of what to say or a new conversation to spark, but now as he watches their faces plastered all over celebrity gossip news, it had offered him the perfect conversation starter.

 _Are you watching this celebrity gossip trash? –JH_

Her response comes pretty quick; she most likely had her phone near her, _No, and I'm honestly surprised that you watch that crap. –EV_

 _I usually don't, but you see, my earlier source of entertainment left my screen. –JH_

 _Such a charmer, Mr. Halstead. –EV_

 _You told me to keep flirting. And please, call me Jay, -JH_

 _Only if you call me Erin, -EV_

 _You're the first daughter, -JH_

 _And you're a rock star; and now that we've officially recognized our titles, to what do I owe the pleasure of this conversation, -EV_

 _You're the first daughter. I feel it's a bit too informal if I refer to you by your first name, -JH_

 _I think we passed informalities the second you stained my dress, -EV_

Jay chuckled as he adjusted himself more comfortably on the bed.

 _And speaking of your stained dress, it appears that it's the talk of the town now, along with our exchange on social media, -JH_

 _And what exactly are they saying, -EV_

 _I've met my match in you. And of course, the standard rumor of we're secretly dating or we'll be dating pretty soon, -JH_

Halstead had turned off his bedside lamp, lying in darkness with the only source of light coming from his cellular device. She hadn't responded in over half an hour, maybe she was busy, maybe she was asleep or maybe she was uncomfortable with the rumors going around about them. Whatever it was had caused for her sudden lack of responses. He wasn't going to press or attempt to coax a reply out of her. He may have surprised himself with apologizing earlier, but Jay Halstead didn't beg.

Just as he was about to give up and set his phone down on the end table, it had vibrated. She responded, _I always find it interesting how those sites know more about my life than I seem to do._

They understand each other.

 _The story of my life, -JH_

An immediate response doesn't come right away. It takes another half an hour for her to reply, _Sorry for the late reply. I am currently locked in my office and am about to handcuff my wrist to the radiator until I finish this legal appeal to file at the federal court. -EV_

Jay's heart sped up as he pictured it. He envisioned it; he allowed his mind to wander and clearly pictured the first daughter handcuffed to a radiator. It's him this time that takes the longest to respond, but once he gathered the perfect reply, he typed it with no regrets.

 _Beauty and brains; I must admit though, it's late and my mind couldn't help but picture just how alluring you must look working, -JH_

If there was any speculation on whether or not he was flirting, it had just been made so obviously clear. And she didn't mind it. Blame it on the late night and the few glasses of wine she had at the dinner, but she was definitely going to respond. She prepared her reply and sent it moments afterwards.

 _Of all the things to be handcuffed to, a radiator is probably the least bit exciting. How about you picture a much more exciting position? –EV_

Jay cursed himself; he did in fact take her advice. He pictured her handcuffed to her work desk, to her bed and to almost any and everything. She got him. She got to him. No one has ever been able to fluster him as much as she did; he'd been speechless for nearly fifteen minutes and the fact that it was over a girl was saying something. It was saying a lot. She had responded before he had the chance to even formulate his thoughts and come up with a reply.

 _Having fun, -EV_

A winking face emoji is sent with her post. She knows what was taking him so long. She's well aware of the impact she had on him. And it didn't take a rocket scientist for her to figure out that he was definitely taking her up on her recommendation of picturing her handcuffed to something a bit more appealing.

 _How could I not, -JH_

 _What did you picture me handcuffed to, -EV_

What game was she playing? She was America's sweetheart. She became a civil rights attorney to help people, to fight for their rights. Her mother started a charity that Erin runs in her free time. She gives speeches at universities about criminal justice reform, women's rights and climate change. She visits orphanages every Christmas. She feeds the homeless every Thanksgiving. She traveled during the summers of her undergrad years to help other countries build houses, take care of their sick and read to their children. She was pure, seeming as innocent as they come; she was practically giving Mother Teresa a run for her money. And now, she's flirting with him in a not so subtle way.

 _A little bit of everything: a desk, a bed, everything, -JH_

He took a chance with his reply. He didn't know how she would respond but he took a leap of faith that she wouldn't be insulted in knowing that he did in fact picture her handcuffed to almost every piece of furniture that came to his mind.

 _How naughty, Jay –EV_

 _I'm naughty? You're the one who practically recommended it. And here I thought you were a good girl, -JH_

This conversation was definitely taking a turn for the best in his eyes. He had never expected this day to turn out like it did. Here he thought that after literally running into her, he wouldn't see or communicate with her again even though they made not so serious mentions of a coffee date; he figured that moment would be a fleeting memory, but no, that's not how it ended at all. He was having a somewhat dirty conversation with the president's daughter at one in the morning. And the oddest thing about it all was this feeling in his gut. He's never felt it before; and it was the moment that she replied when he realized what that feeling was, he was falling for her. He wanted her. He actually wanted to be with someone, someone completely unlike the women he met at bars and hooked up with after only buying them a drink.

 _As the saying goes Jay, good girls are just bad girls who don't get caught, -EV_

His phone nearly dropped from his hands after reading her message. What was her endgame here? What exactly was she trying to do? He quickly readjusted his grip and typed out his reply, ignoring every instinct in his body and for the first time going for the girl, seeking whatever she was willing to offer.

Shit. What exactly was he typing?

 _My concert is tomorrow in downtown Washington D.C., -JH_

 _Is that an invite, -EV_

 _I want you there. And maybe afterwards we can go for that coffee, -JH_

 _Unfortunately, I can make no promises. It's a bit last minute and I have to run it pass my guys. I'll use my best persuasion techniques though; they usually always work, -EV_

A bit of disappointment washed over him and he quickly shoved that feeling aside. He replied, but kept his response clipped.

 _I hope you pull it off, -JH_

 _I do too, -EV_

 _So what are you doing right now, -JH_

He steers the conversation to a different topic; he didn't do emotions, he didn't do relationships and he definitely didn't do this, but here he was doing everything he normally wouldn't. Here he was doing what his brother would approve of while going against everything he and Rixton would do. He wasn't himself. This wasn't him; at least it had never been him. Yes, he flirts with girls but he's never invited them to one of his concerts, he's never had actual late night conversations with them that wouldn't result in a hookup and he's never tried this hard to hold an exchange with a girl. He barely even knew their names; he kept details to a minimum because the only thing he was interested in was sex, not dating or relationships. Normally, they're chasing after him but right now, he's doing all the chasing. And for some reason, he didn't mind.

 _Sill working, -EV_

 _Do you ever take a break, -JH_

 _Not really, -EV_

 _Another reason why you need to come to my concert, -JH_

 _I cannot argue with the truth, -EV_

 _Get some rest Erin, -JH_

 _I wish I could Jay, -EV_

 _Don't fall asleep in your office, -JH_

 _No promises, -EV_

 _And how is being handcuffed to the radiator treating you? –JH_

 _I would know if I had handcuffs to actually chain me to the radiator, -EV_

 _And here I got all excited for nothing, -JH_

 _Sorry, you'll just have to settle for this, -EV_

Her message seemed incomplete. Jay didn't fully understand it. What exactly would he have to settle for? He stares down at the screen, trying to read through her message and wondering to himself where her response will lead when a picture loads up.

She'd sent him a private picture; a picture of herself.

His heart metaphorically stopped beating momentarily as he clicked to view the full image. Her hair had been pulled back into a messy ponytail with little strands that were too short to fit dangling and framing her face. She was wearing reading glasses; thick, black, rectangular frames around her eyes giving her that hint of professionalism which separated the fine line between work and play. Erin's smiling in the photo, teeth and dimples present as he stares into her tired eyes. She was beautiful.

Fuck, she was gorgeous. She was a sight for sore eyes in her tired, relaxed, makeup-free state. As she reported earlier, she wasn't handcuffed to the radiator behind her. Instead, she was sitting on the carpeted floor, legs crisscrossed. Stacks of folders and paperwork were spread around her, a half-full glass of wine sat beside her and her iPad sat on her lap. While she may have been at work, in her office in downtown D.C., she wasn't sporting a business suit; instead, she was dressed in a pair of leggings and a large, white button up shirt. If this is what she needed him to settle for then he would happily take it. She was obviously mistaken if she thought he wouldn't appreciate this, if she thought that this was actually considered settling.

 _I'm speechless, -JH_

 _Do I look that horrid? In my defense, it's a little pass two in the morning,–EV_

 _You actually look far from it actually, -JH_

 _You have a way with words, -EV_

 _It's probably why I write all of my own songs, -JH_

 _I'm looking forward to hearing them tomorrow, -EV_

What was she saying? She spoke it in the affirmative. It sounded as if it came from a definite place, a plan already set in action and guaranteed for tonight. Jay didn't want to get excited; he's never gotten excited over a girl agreeing to a date before, but this time was different, this time he was eager. He rose from his bed, too much energy coursing through him for him to lay still. Jay paced around his dark room, fingers flying across his screen as he types up his response.

 _Does that mean what I think it means? –JH_

 _I'm going to your concert, -EV_

Jay bites down upon his bottom lip. He wants to respond; he actually knows what he wants to say but for some unknown and ungodly reason, his fingers won't move across the screen. He's frozen in thought and in action because this is actually happening. He actually asked a girl out, and not just any girl but the president's daughter, she had agreed and she had positively asserted that she would be going to his concert; she would come and see him live. No one would believe it. Shit, Jay barely even believes it himself.

And after finally managing to come undone and relax, he succeeds in typing out a short reply, _What? How? –JH_

 _The photo of myself that I sent to you, I had Atwater take it for me. He was tired. He was ready to go home, but he can't go home until I do. So, I used my powers of persuasion and negotiation to make an agreement with him, -EV_

 _Now I'm interested? –JH_

 _I thought you always were. Anyway, normally my guys start work at seven in the morning and end the second I'm home for the night. Once I'm home for good, it's a shift change where my four guys go home and one guy –who I honestly only met a few times- guards me from outside my place. I agreed to work from home for the next two weeks which makes their lives a little bit easier, -EV_

 _Quick thinking, -JH_

 _I'm a lawyer for a reason, -EV_

Jay was calm enough to make his way back to bed, crawling inside and resting under the covers. He hears a loud knock at his door before the drunken words of Rixton echo though it. It's ignored. He's too much in a good mood to allow Kenny Rixton to ruin it for him by teasing Jay on his little crush or insulting the president's daughter because of his distaste of authority figures. Rixton was great behind the keyboard and even worse than Jay at relationships but Rixton was proud of it. Rixton was the kind of guy who got in between many of his friends relationships –or potential relationships- with the only exception being Ruzek and Burgess because of how long they've known her. She was family, so he approved of her. Jay didn't know how well Rixton would approve of his flirting banter with Erin, especially because she was the daughter of one of the most powerful people in the world.

 _I'm looking forward to seeing you in the audience tomorrow, -JH_

 _Me too… Anyway, I have one request for you right now, -EV_

 _And what is that? –JH_

 _It's your turn, -EV_

Shit. She was far from innocent. Without any specifics, he already knows what's being asked of him. She wants a photo. It's give and take. She sent him one and now it's his turn to pay up. There's just one minor problem; he only sleeps in his boxers. And Jay was definitely not about to send the sweetest, most selfless woman he's ever met a picture that is surely something she isn't prepared for. So, he simply responds to her message with words instead of a photo.

 _I would, but I'm far from decent right now, -JH_

And he doesn't know why her response surprises him, but it does.

 _That's okay, I won't tell if you don't, EV_

Jay gulped as he turned on the bedside lamp. Exactly, what was he getting himself into? This wasn't like him. He didn't fall for anyone, especially women like her. He remained distant and void of emotion when it came to the opposite sex. He didn't text women at all hours of the day. He didn't know anything about the women he flirted with besides their first names, their health status –safe sex and all that- and whether or not they wanted to go back to his place or theirs. Jay didn't have to try hard to vie for a woman's affection yet he found himself wanting to do everything possible to keep this up, to keep her intrigued and interested. After all, he was a rock star, born and raised in a rough neighborhood in Chicago while she grew up in the limelight, being scrutinized and sculpted into the successful, well-respected woman she is today. With his reputation, he could ruin that image for her. With her reputation, she could do wonders for his. And this is exactly what his brother wanted. Jay was confused; he didn't know what he wanted. He was torn between his old self –the self he has been with for 28 years- and this new self –this self that just appeared the second he bumped into her. He wanted whatever this was to continue and that's why he happily obliged and sent a photo of himself; mussed hair, sculptured, bare chest and a dashing smile to match. He turns off his bedside lamp and hopes as he falls asleep that his picture affected her just as much as hers affected him.


	2. District 21

To be well-rested appears to be a foreign concept that she's only just discovered when she wakes up. It is unfamiliar to a woman who normally sets her alarm for seven in the morning after going to sleep sometime on or after one in the morning. With work, her mother's charity, and responsibilities and obligations to her role as first daughter, there was little time for her to actually get a moment to herself –until now. When Erin wakes the next day –a little after noon- the first thing she found herself doing, was wanting to check her phone. She could hear it vibrate after vibrate signifying the constant stream of notifications. Because she stayed at the office so late yesterday, she decided to take the day off –her first day off in three years. Erin rolled over to her side, stretching her limbs before burying the side of her face into her silk pillowcase. She's cocooned by them –her pillows- there were absolutely more pillows than she were willing to count but it was simply overcompensation for the amount of bed space she is unable to fill. Her petite build barely filled half of the unnecessarily huge king-sized bed, but it didn't bother her. It's comfortable; she's comfortable, and she has no desire to move, at least not until the concert tonight. It's been too long since she's had absolutely nothing to do on her schedule. It's been years since she's been able to just lay in bed, no meetings, no conferences, no charity events, no boring state dinners, no trials and most importantly, no being bombarded by the media.

That blissful –unoccupied- moment can only last for so long because the constant stream of notifications continues to vibrate her phone against the rodeo oak styled nightstand. It's overwhelming to see the endless amount of notifications –emails, social media alerts, text messages, and voicemails. While it seems her day off may not be so uneventful and relaxing, she does find solace in the direct message notification of her social media app. She overlooks every message, every alert from all her social media accounts, knowing most of them were followers who are tagging her in a photo they've taken with her, they've drawn of her, they've seen of her or a message giving an opinion about her to click on the direct, private message sent from him hours ago. She felt that pull towards it. Her curiosity on whether or not Jay had responded was at its highest peak. And Jay did not disappoint; he had responded to her last message that complimented the very enchanting picture of him that she received late –or early- this morning. She flushes the phone against her chest after reading his message, _Good Morning, -JH_

What is happening to her? She met this guy yesterday and she's already turning into a big ball of mush. The constant pitter patter of her pulsating heart is a new feeling for her; she has gone on plenty of dates in the past, but for some reason this one –even though she hasn't been on it yet- felt different. Jay wasn't a politician, wasn't an attorney, he wasn't in law enforcement and he wasn't the stereotypical guy one would bring home to meet their parents. That was exciting to her. Their first meeting had been interesting and she had definitely assumed she wouldn't see or speak to him again, especially not in person, however, he was bold enough to seek her out, comment on her photo and send her a private message. She honestly cannot remember the last time she stayed up until three in the morning for good conversation, yes, she had work to do, but messaging him made it less painful to accomplish.

All through their late night conversation and until this moment, this afternoon, Erin was enthralled with the same rush; she's excited to see where tonight takes her, she's looking forward to hear his voice live, singing to thousands in an arena and she's anticipating the break away from work and duties. She was looking forward to tonight. She was looking forward to seeing him perform. She was looking forward to whatever the night had to offer. Erin sighs, pulling the phone away from her chest, she reads the remainder of his message, _I notified security of your intent to attend; when you get here, go through the back entrance, it's safer and there's much less people, -JH_

 _How considerate of you, -EV_

It's amazing just how easily they fall back into conversation. She's lying in the bed and he's at work. She flushes her phone back against her chest and sighs; she felt like a high school girl with a crush. In all honesty, she can't even remember the last time she went on a date. Even though they didn't technically term it a date, and he wouldn't be with her officially because he'll be on stage, but he did invite her to his concert and that was saying a lot, she knew enough about him to know his reputation and the fact that he didn't invite anyone to his concert, especially not a potential interest was huge. It was bigger than she cared to admit. Erin hated to admit it, but she googled him the night before –after the state dinner- and she learned some interesting things about him and some unlikeable things about his reputation, but being in the spotlight herself, Erin knew that every piece of information gained from the internet has to be taken warily. You can't trust everything you hear and read; she knows firsthand that big stories cost big bucks and if a picture appeared to support the story, then the price increased even more.

When her phone vibrates against her chest, she pulls it away, a light smile appearing on her lips as she reads his response, _It's one of my best qualities, -JH,_ he's so full of himself, but she kind of likes it; she likes his confidence and his self-assurance. And he was awake, which was unsurprising since he sent her a good morning post in the wee hours of the morning, she was more surprised that he was even functioning after most likely getting no more than four hours of sleep; another message of his comes through seconds later interrupting her thoughts, _Just some updates for tonight; I won't be able to see you until after the show, security will show you to an empty skybox to watch. I reserved it just for you. No one knows you're coming, -JH_

 _Trying to keep me a secret, I see, -EV_

 _I'm just trying to look out for you, -JH_

 _That's sweet, but you do know that there are people literally paid to do that job, right? –EV_

 _It doesn't mean I won't enjoy the pleasure in doing it myself, -JH_

Erin sits up straight, using the headboard of her king-sized bed to prop her up. Her hair is wild and untamed but she's unbothered by it. Instead, she swoons, lights up into an even bigger smile and types out her reply, _That's very kind of you, -EV_

 _And to be honest, if people knew you were attending my concert, you'll just steal the attention away from me, -JH_

Erin raised a brow: _And here I thought it was because you wanted me all to yourself, -EV_

Three gray dots float through the bottom of the messaging screen as she patiently waits for his response. She's eager to see what he has to say as their casual conversation begins to turn into its usual flirty banter. As she anxiously waits to see what he says, she goes to her text messages, ignoring the endless messages from her father's campaign manager, the political party's department head, one of her coworkers and even the messages from her mother and brother. She was off today and that meant no work or duties; she deserved this. And after scrolling through the list of texts, she spots one from Atwater sent at seven in the morning; it was basically an update, informing her that they were on the job. Even though she told them –practically forced them- to spend the night since they didn't get back to her place until almost four in the morning, they still managed to start on time.

On late nights, they spent the night; Erin had more than enough room inside of her high-rise condo. She lived on the highest floor, owning the six bedrooms and four bathroom level of the condo with immediate access to the roof. She preferred it when they stayed the night; it always made her feel a little less lonely and a little more safe knowing they were down the hallway from where she slept. Even though they didn't live there and they went home most nights, they always knew the offer was there if they needed a place to stay. What kind of parent gifted their child with a six bedroom high-rise after graduating from law school anyway? She honestly didn't know. Her friends had received trips abroad, cars and a few bucks of cash, but her parents, no, they steered clear of the traditional graduation gifts and gave her a freaking condo big enough to house the students at her alma mater.

Erin grips her hand around her cell and crawls out of her bed, so far there had been no response from Jay but she was distracted from his lack of response by the sound of banter coming from outside her bedroom. Even though her guys were on duty, technically that wasn't done from inside the house; when they kept guard, it was protocol that they stand in the hallway, near the elevator. She didn't understand why she heard their voices out there, especially after Atwater sent her a text that they started their shift. And no one could get to her floor without access to her elevator, so whoever it was out there, she must have known them. It was protocol that when she arrives home, they'll have to check her place for any intruders. If someone was here since yesterday, they would have found them and most likely arrested them. She didn't particularly care how she looked; it was her day off and she was inside of her home, she deserved to look a little rough around the edges. Her hair is untamed, her shorts stop at her upper thigh and her tank top must have shrunk in the wash because the fabric now ends just below her belly button and it's tight, but remains to be comfortable.

The only reason she continues to hold her cell is to await the inevitable message she knows will be coming soon. She walks across the pearly white carpet in her bedroom on her quest to the door and when she opens it up, the voice is much clearer and a lot more obvious. She doesn't know how she didn't recognize the sound of her own mother's voice, especially as it barks at her guys. As she walks barefoot through her apartment, phone clenched in her hand and face covered in irritation, she picks up on her mother's words, berating her guys for apparently failing to perform one of their roles and because she's the first lady and their boss, they have to listen and take it, but she doesn't. Erin slams her phone down onto the white shelf beneath her mounted television; the hard impact of her phone slamming against the ledge captures everyone's attention and renders her mother speechless, "It's," Camille takes a quick glance at her watch, "its 1:30 in the afternoon Erin and you're just getting out of bed. Are you okay? Are you sick?"

Erin rolls her eyes, "Why were you scolding them?"

"I wasn't," Camille appears to be confused, "I was just stressing to them the importance of your safety. Erin, you need to make sure they're doing their jobs because when they're doing what they're supposed to do, then you'll always remain safe. My guards are out there right now doing the job of yours. When I got here, no one was outside your front door. Your door was unlocked and I came inside to see Dawson coming out of the restroom, Atwater pouring himself something to drink, Sorensen taking a personal phone call and Roman," she glances around, "where is Roman?"

"I'm right here ma'am," he exited another guest bathroom.

"You guys can go back to your posts."

Erin gives them each a nod, ensuring each one of them that she wasn't mad or upset. She saw them as friends, friends who just so happen to be paid and assigned to protect her. And sometimes that fine line between guard and friend was blurred. They had the luxury of staying over some nights, when on duty, she told them to use the guest bathrooms instead of venturing downstairs to the lobby in order to use the public restroom, she told them to help themselves to anything in her kitchen, she gave them permission to step away to make a personal phone call if needed and she most definitely gave them the freedom to perform their jobs, she didn't need to shadow or micromanage them. Her guys were the best; they knew what they were doing.

"Mom," Erin takes in her mother's pristine appearance; she was always dressed to impress, "is there a reason you're here? Not that I mind, but we don't have anything planned today."

"First, I want to commend you for a job well done on how you handled that stain on your dress yesterday. I would have never thought to take a selfie with it and putting it out for the world to see but it made you and our family more relatable. It showed we're not perfect, which is perfect," Camille brought a hand up to push her sunglasses on top of her head; "I also came to remind you about our visit to the orphanage tomorrow. We go every year and you know the children will want you to read to them again so come with a good book."

It was that moment that Erin hears her cell vibrate against the shelf. Erin's too eager and fortunately for her, her mother doesn't catch on. She opens the app and notices a response from the person she's been waiting to hear from, _Sorry for the late response; we just got finished rehearsing and now we're free until tonight. I must say though…your last message made me realize just how impatient I am, what are you doing right now? Are you free?_

Was he asking to see her before the concert? Did he want a pre-date before their supposed official date? If he did, she was down; she was so down for that. But, she couldn't respond right away, her mother snapped her fingers in her face, struggling to bring her attention away from the future and towards the present, "Erin?" she snaps out of it, "Have you heard a word I just said?"

Erin blinks, "Yeah. I heard you. You said something about the orphanage tomorrow."

"What's wrong?"

And Camille Voight's specialty was seeing through her. No matter what Erin said or how she tried to look focused on the conversation, Camille saw through it. Growing up, she could never get away with telling a lie, sneaking out or fooling her mother, but it didn't mean she didn't try, it's just she never succeeded because Camille had saw through it all.

"Nothing's wrong."

"What's on your mind then?"

"Nothing's on my mind."

"If that's what you want to go with sweetheart," Camille backs away from her daughter and turns to walk into the kitchen, "then I'll accept that answer, but just know I'm not falling for it and I'm here whenever you want to tell me what has you blushing, sleeping in until the afternoon and checking your phone every couple of minutes."

Erin is distracted once again, nodding her head as if she's listening when in reality, she's responding back to Jay's message, _I'm currently trapped at my place with my mother, I'm sure if you could think of something more interesting to do, such as watch paint dry, then I'll be more inclined to ditch her and hang out with you. That is, if that's where you were going with asking me if I were free, -EV_

"Sweetheart," Camille shuts the fridge and looks over her shoulder to see her daughter approach, "you really need to go grocery shopping. If you're going to continue to feed yourself and four grown men," she smirks, alerting her daughter that she did in fact know that Erin allowed them to help themselves to whatever's in her fridge, "then you need actual food. You're either starving yourself or living off of fast food and both aren't healthy."

"I know mom."

"I'll just go grocery shopping for you."

"You don't need to do that," her phone vibrates against her shelf and she smiles.

"I'll buy in bulk."

"You really don't need to do that," Erin is paying no attention to her mother and Camille senses it. She's too busy reading his words off the screen of her phone, _Unfortunately, I didn't get to plan anything as interesting as watching paint dry BUT my bandmates and manager left to go sightseeing before the concert and I was just about to order a pizza if you would care to join me, oh and I must say there's a possibility the lead singer and guitarist can give you a backstage tour before everyone starts showing up, -JH_

 _Your bandmates are gone? Did you get rid of them just to see me early, -EV_

 _Possibly, so, are you coming or do I have to spend the few hours before my concert alone? -JH_

 _How can I possibly turn down that offer; give me an hour, -EV_

Erin doesn't wait for a response this time; she looks up at her mother to see her staring with the widest grin on her face. She has her purse on her shoulder and sunglasses covering her eyes, "I'm not going to ask because I know you won't tell me but whatever it is, be careful."

"There's nothing to worry about; I'm just going to a concert tonight."

This intrigues Camille; it's obvious by her raised brow, "Is that true? And if my daughter would be kind enough to tell me who will be accompanying her tonight, I would be delighted."

"I'm going alone," technically it wasn't a lie; she's going alone and she's watching it alone.

"Very well," Camille gives a sharp nod of her head, "as long as your guys are going, I won't complain, now, I'm going to do a walk through of your house and make a list of everything you'll need at the grocery store, by the state of your fridge, I wouldn't be surprised if you were running low on toilet paper."

"I'm 26, mom."

Camille shrugs it off, "You're never too old for your mother's help."

"Justin's 24 and have you seen his apartment. Mom that place looks like a tornado went through it" Erin quickly told, hoping the information would send her mother elsewhere.

"I've seen it," Camille clasps her hand over her heart, "and there are even things I won't do. I've called for a cleaning service to go over there this weekend and then afterwards I'll go in and see what he needs, but for right now," she clasps her hands around her daughter's face, "I have to make sure my oldest doesn't wither away. Now, are you running low on tampons?"

-x-

Jay finished off his third cup of coffee; the lack of sleep from last night was definitely starting to get to him. However, he wouldn't change it for anything in the world. How could he? His lack of sleep came from staying up and messaging a beautiful woman. His lack of sleep resulted in a date with the first daughter. He would take that over sleep any day. The effects from only getting four hours of sleep were starting to catch up to him; he had been so busy that there was never a moment for sleep deprivation to set in. His day had started off with phone calls from sponsors, rehearsals in preparation of show time, unnecessary breaks in the middle of the day so Rixton could nurse his hangover and wardrobe changes for Burgess to adjust the remaining inches on their outfits for tonight. And all throughout the busyness of the day, he somehow managed to find the time to message Erin. He withdraws his cell from his pocket and sends off a quick message, _Pizza ordered and should be here any second, -JH_

A quick glance at the clock in the backroom showed it was already nearing three o'clock; the concert started in three hours. He knew he was playing with fire. He didn't know what he was doing and where all of the back and forth messaging was going to lead, but he was looking forward to finding out. All Jay knew was he needed to be careful; this wasn't just some fan or groupie or even a random girl he met at the bar, this was an affluent woman, a woman who carries the same last name as the current president, a humanitarian, and a woman who is highly regarded in law, philanthropy and advocacy. Jay will never understand how someone like her agreed to go out with the lead singer of a rock band, known for his smooth-talking and charming ways that left a trail of broken hearts behind him. All he knew was her heart was sacred and he needed to be careful with it; if he broke her heart, the whole world would find out.

Jay spent the next few minutes pacing around backstage until his phone vibrated in his hand. A smile brightened his face at the notification he just received. A long look at the screen showed her name and message with a phone number attached, _We're about to see each other officially for a date, I think it's about time you have my number. Save it and send me a text with your name; I'll see you in a few minutes, -EV_

His reply was almost instantaneous, _Saved, and don't forget to go through the back entrance; security is expecting you, -JH_

His response was followed by sending her a text of his name, smiling once his iPhone indicates that she read his message. And as he waits for a reply, his phone rings and he picks up, telling the delivery man he's on his way outside to pay for the pizza. The front entrance was blocked off; no one was allowed inside the building until thirty minutes before show time. Jay jogs to the front and pushes open the door, spotting the delivery man leaning against the side of his truck. It would have been nice to just poke his head outside, hand the guy the money, take the pizza and go back inside, but things could never be that simple. Instead, he had to walk to the guy's car and stop for the occasional photo, and once he reached the car, the aroma of the pizza in the box filled his lungs; he was starving. After handing the guy some cash –with a nice tip added- he took a hold of the box, "Excuse me," without responding, he looked, encouraging the woman to continue, "Can we take a photo…together, please?" She's flustered; it's cute.

She wants a picture; he hands his box of pizza back to the delivery man, "The lady wants a photo," he takes her phone and hands it to the delivery man; he approaches her, wrapping his arm around the girl's shoulders. A couple of pictures were taken of the two of them before Jay casually removed his arm. She gave him a flirty smile and normally he would have picked up on the hints she was giving with her body language, but it was obvious how unreceptive he was and he blamed her –Erin Voight, it was her fault. Jay took a hold of his pizza, winked at a few fans hollering his way and when they swooned, he smiled –Jay Halstead still had it.

The door shuts and locks behind him as he carries the pizza box away, climbing the stairs up three flights until he's on the skybox level. His heart is thumping in his chest as time continues to pass; it should be any second now that Erin shows up. He wanted to be ready. Since he moved their date up, he wanted to make this as genuine as possible. Jay continues towards the reserved skybox and groans in frustration when he sees the back entrance security guards, "What are you doing back here?" Jay's heart kicked up a notch; its beating fast as he thinks about Erin patiently waiting in the back alley for someone to let her in, "Erin is going to be here any minute and you guys are supposed to be at the back entrance waiting for her. We can't leave her waiting in an alley; she's the first daughter for Christ sakes! Come on guys, I gave you one job."

"Easy there, tiger," that familiar voice, filled with rasp becomes clear as she steps around the security. Her secret service are lined up protectively behind her, keeping their guards up until they can clear the floor, until then, it wasn't considered safe.

"Wow, aren't you a sight for sore eyes," he whispers astonishingly; he appears to be surprised as he takes in her appearance. Her brunette hair falls around her shoulders in loose curls, hoop earrings hang from her ears, along with a diamond stud pierced in a hole above one hoop. She's pretty casual; she stands in front of him in burgundy flats, black, skinny jeans and a burgundy shirt with his band's logo on the front to match. Her lips drew in his attention; the red lipstick on them earning his focus and when they part, he snaps back into reality, "Sorry guys," he looks to security, "you can go back to your posts now."

"I didn't know what to wear," she spreads her arms open and twirls around in front of him, "So, I went with casual. How do I look?"

"You look," he's remains speechless for a moment in order to choose the adjective, "amazing."

"Thanks."

His eyes continue to take her in and linger upon the burgundy shirt with District 21 written across the front in bold letters, "Not that I'm complaining, but where'd you get the shirt?"

"The gift shop," she looks down at the design, "we walked past it when I came inside and I couldn't resist. The actual shirt I wore is right in here," she holds up her purse and re-positions it on her shoulder, "I couldn't officially support you without wearing something of your band."

"Where'd you change?"

Erin briefly looked at her guys, "There was no one around but the building's security and my guys; they had their backs turned and surrounded me."

The silence that follows her last remark is deafening. Neither knows what to say; it's obvious and awkward. Erin stands there, purse on shoulder and hands stuffed inside the pockets of her leather jacket. Jay nods, accepting her answer and watches her, continually taking in her wardrobe, her red lipstick and her curled hair; she was by the very definition of beautiful and he was lucky enough to put aside his bad boy tendencies –at least for yesterday and today- to be afforded the chance to go out with her. At that thought, he couldn't help but smile and when she gave him an equally big smile in return, he felt that maybe this would turn out all right, maybe it's okay to change, and maybe Will was right, it's time to put that bad boy persona behind him.

This moment, this awkward moment was interrupted by Atwater clearing his throat, earning both his and Erin's attention, "Sorry to interrupt, but where will she be located?"

"Oh that's right," he blushed; he actually, physically blushed in embarrassment as he pulled a set of keys out of his pocket, "This is where you'll be when I'm performing," he approaches and unlocks the entry labeled skybox with a gold-plated reserved sign hanging on the door.

"Guys," Erin looks over her shoulder, reminding them with her tone and her gaze about what they discussed in the car ride over. Erin had reminded them that for all intents and purposes, this is a date, a date that she doesn't want to be shadowed and chaperoned and for that reason, they'll have to remain in the hallway or hang out in the skybox next door.

"We need to check the room first," Roman reminded.

Jay nods, and pushes the door open to allow them to enter. He remains in the hallway with Erin and Sorensen as the remainder of her guards check the room. The box of pizza remains in his hands and as the moment gets closer to where he'll finally be alone with her, his nerves start to take over. It's frustrating. This has never happened to him before; he's usually the one to make others flustered, nervous and uneasy, it's never him on the opposite side.

"Hey," Erin approaches only for Sorensen to step in between them; she sighs but continues to talk anyway, "relax. It's just a first date. And I'm pretty sure you've been on plenty of them."

"Relax? I'm not nervous."

At his pointed look, she gestures towards his right foot, tapping restlessly against the floor. He bashfully smiled, nodding to give in and silently admit that he was nervous. He was on a date with the president's daughter and while it was easy to appear confident and self-assured through social media, it was definitely harder to do so now that she's standing in front of him. Sorensen remains between the two; the lack of expression on his face doesn't intimidate Jay like it's supposed to, he's come across jealous ex-boyfriends, protective fathers and brothers. He didn't get intimidated too often. Sorensen takes a hold of the box of pizza from Jay's hold and hands it over to Erin, "I'm going to have to pat you down."

"Sorry," Erin whispers when she notices the nerves appear on his face again, "it's protocol."

"Open your arms and spread your legs," Sorensen directs just as the remainder of her guys exit the skybox. He takes his time to rub his hands down Jay's arms, legs, pat his back and his front.

The room was cleared and Dawson gave them a nod of approval, "We'll be right outside the room. If you need us, don't hesitate to call for one of us." Erin hands him the pizza box back.

"I know" she smiles, walking through her guards to enter the room, "just spread out some; there's no reason for all of you to stand in one spot. And if you want to go buy food or use the restroom, just go; you don't have to tell me or ask for permission."

Each guard nodded their heads and spaced out, each posted up at different points down the hallway. Erin is the first to enter the room; it's clean, it's exclusive and it's private. She'll have the room all to herself and usually it would make her feel standoffish and alone, but living alone in a six bedroom high-rise condo makes situations like this feel normal. The skybox consisted of a fully stocked bar, a private bathroom and a small seating area. She approached the edge, looking through the tinted window to peer down at the large stage and all the empty seats, "This is a nice view," she looks over her shoulder to see Jay setting down the box of pizza.

"I'm sorry I didn't get you a seat closer; I figured you would want privacy."

"You're right," she briefly turns to face him before looking back out at the view, "I'm not a loner or anything, It's just," Erin thinks of the best way to explain it, "when I put myself out there, people have things to say; they either support my dad or are against him and they aren't afraid of letting me know their personal feelings. This day isn't about them or my dad or work or politics; this day is about us," she smiles and Jay notices it in the reflection of the tinted window.

He smiles. It's nice to know that she's taking this date just as seriously as he's taking it. And without responding to it or drawing more attention towards her shared feelings, he avoids the topic and opens the box of pizza, "I didn't know what you would like so I got half cheese and half pepperoni."

"Can't go wrong with those options," she approaches and collects a paper plate, "For future reference though, I'm not really picky. I'm a big foodie and I can do any topping except for anchovies and pineapples."

And if only he needed another reason to absolutely adore her, he would have it.

Jay follows her over to the couch and watches as she sits first. He remains to be flustered. He's doing everything to keep up his casual and cool demeanor. She didn't appear to be effected by his presence at all, which was kind of unfair, but considering who she was and the type of people she met on a daily basis, he shouldn't be at all surprised. It didn't make it easier for him though; he was a rock star, used to the spotlight but when under her gaze, he felt himself clamming up and nervously wanting to end the date in order to keep some semblance of self-respect. His eyes were staring at the pizza on her plate, avoiding her gaze and further surprising him at how he's reacting. What's wrong with him? Here he was standing, holding his plate of pizza with his throat dry, his shoulders stiff and his palms sweaty while she was relaxed back into her seat, studying him carefully, "I'm glad you asked me out."

It calms his nerves; she knows it, "I am too," he finally finds the nerve to sit down next to her.

His body cushions into the seat and he turns to face her. She bends her legs, turning to face him, and when she sets a comforting hand upon his knee, it draws his attention back to her face, "Now that we've squared that away, you can relax. I'm just Erin; we left the titles outside."

"I'm usually not like this," he angles his body towards hers.

"I'm not surprised; I usually have that affect around guys."

Jay's brow rises, "You're pretty confident, huh?"

"You can say that," she whispers before finally taking a bite of her pizza slice.

They take the time to silently eat their slices of pizza, sharing smiles and lingering looks as they fill their empty bellies. It's quiet in the room but for the first time, the silence doesn't feel awkward. It's a date and it's starting to feel like one as he finishes off his pizza and decides to make the first move towards getting to know her.

"I want to know about you," he admits, setting his plate down on the table in front of him, "it can be about anything related to you."

Erin looked a little uncertain, "I'm not that interesting."

"For some reason I find that hard to believe," he makes a bold move and reaches out to take her hand, encouraging her to share.

She felt him rubbing soothing circles over her knuckles, "What do you want to know?"

"Tell me about the life of Ms. Erin Voight."

"I've been in the limelight my whole life," she shares, using her free hand to set her empty plate down, "You would think I would be used to it but it gets old fast. See? Not that interesting…"

"Details Ms. Voight," he urges.

Erin twirls one of her curls as she sorts assiduously through her memories, "My dad wasn't always into politics. He used to be a sergeant but when my mom got pregnant, he decided on a safer profession; he ran for office and became the governor of Illinois a month after I was born."

"Is that why he's called the sergeant?"

"Pardon," she's confused as she releases the curl from around her finger.

"When we first met, you said his secret service codename is the sergeant…"

She's surprised by his response, "You remembered that?"

"It's no big deal," he shrugs it off.

For her, it was though. It was the little things, the little mentions that she found sweet. He remembered. Erin scooted forward, adjusting her hand and opening her fingers to allow his to intertwine with hers. She's bolder now; she's more relaxed as she continues to share a portion of her life with him.

"My brother; he's two years younger than me, but he's made the spotlight bearable. He can drive me crazy sometimes but I wouldn't trade him for anything in the world. He was born when I was two so I literally can't remember a moment in my life without him. He's been the rebel-"

"Hence his codename," he adds, earning a genuine smile on her face.

"Correct. It's just, when I was a teenager; I acted out…a lot. I gave my parents headaches, I kept them up at night worrying and it was honestly up for debate whether or not I would actually, for lack of a better way to say this, but do something with my life, become someone they can be proud of and I did, but Justin, his rebellious stage came later; he's going through it now and my parents have practically given up on him. They want him to mature because they figure he's too old to be a rebel and I feel bad for him because of that."

Jay's considered a bad boy; he's termed himself that, his family, friends and the media did too. If they felt their own son was too old to be enjoying the quirks of life, then what would they think of a 28 year old doing the same? He swallows his fear of the future and focuses on the present.

"Anyway, you probably didn't want to hear all about my relationship with my brother-"

"I want to hear anything you want to tell me."

She genuinely smiles again, "When I was four, my dad was re-elected as governor and then became the state senator when I was eight. He served his whole term and you're probably already aware that he became vice president afterwards. I was 14 then and I absolutely hated it."

"How come?"

"We had to move," she simply added, "I left all my friends. I left my home, my school and my city all behind to come here. I was put in some preppy, private academy and I hated that too. It did eventually grow on me though; I met friends, I got my first boyfriend, I got to see the world in an entirely different perspective and I visited some of the most beautiful places. And then after those eight years, my dad made the decision to run for president when I was 22 and was officially elected when I was 23. I've been the president's daughter since, and now here we are."

"If all of that led you to this moment, then I'm happy for it."

Erin makes the next move; she reaches out her free hand to take a hold of his other one. She scoots closer, legs crisscrossed on the couch as she faces him comfortably, "Enough about me, I want to know about you Mr. Halstead."

"What aspect of my life would you like to know about?"

"Since I'm at your concert and I'll be seeing you perform on stage soon, tell me about your bandmates. I want to know about the other guys gracing the stage with you."

"Sounds good," he nods, sorting through his bandmates to figure out which one he should mention first; he'll start with the least complicated one, "there's Mouse, well that's what we call him," he clarified when a confused expression crossed her face, "his real name is Greg; he'll be the guy on the bass guitar. Mouse is probably the one with the kindest heart; he wants to make a difference. He makes large donations to your mother's charity at least twice a year in hopes of one day his sizable donations earn him a chance to meet you."

"That's sweet of him," Erin brushes her thumbs lightly over his knuckles.

"Yeah well, part of it is because he has a crush on you."

Her brows rise, "Is that so?"

"I think it's going on 11 years now; I can't really blame him though."

"So, how would he take this," she withdraws one of her hands from his and gestures between the two of them, "is that part of the reason why I'm not meeting him or any of your bandmates? I don't want to cause any problems Jay. I like you, but-"

"Hey," he interrupts; it's his turn to calm her worries, "that's not the reason you're not meeting them. I kind of want to keep you to myself; I don't want everyone in my business, in my personal life," he smiles when she smiles, "and I like you too."

Erin withdraws her other hand from his and brings her fingers up to rub her temples, "I just don't want to come between you and your friend."

"You won't," he scoots closer, pulling her hand back into his, "trust me; Mouse is cool and yes he has a crush but it's not as big as the crush I have on you," her eyes brighten, "his is strictly platonic; he thinks you're a gorgeous woman with a heart of gold and he probably would love to see the world through your eyes and become a friend and while I agree, I hope this date shows the potential we have to be so much more."

The beat of Erin's heart increased; this day was going better than expected. The man who sat in front of her, facing her, was not the man the media described in the articles she found online. He appeared to be someone else, someone different and someone she could honestly see herself with in the future. She reached out a careful hand, going slow enough and studying his face for any signs of discomfort, but there was no obvious sign, he remained perfectly still as her hand ran through the back of his hair and then around to cup his cheek, "I hope so too."

It becomes apparent where she wants this moment to lead; she knows it and he knows it too. He has no objections to it as he leans forward to close the unwanted distance between their lips. There's a hesitance between them, their eyes staring into the other to get another act of approval before their lips are sealed against each other. And it wasn't long after that momentary pause before Jay closed the gap between their mouths. With each second that passed during their kiss, he could feel her resolve slipping away beneath the weight of his lips. Each teasing swipe of her tongue had Jay yearning for more, pulling her body closer as he opened his mouth to her. His arm wrapped around her waist and shifted her hips slightly, changing the angle with which she was relaxing, so as to move herself even closer to him even as he leans her back. Erin moaned into his mouth, the sound kindling every fiber in his body as he continued to kiss her; the way her legs twisted so effortlessly with his own, some involuntary effort to continually bring themselves closer to each other. His chest is flushed against her own as the back of her head becomes cradled in his hand to cushion her head as it lays against the arm of the couch.

This moment, this unexpected moment shared between two completely different people from two different walks of life merging into one as they share a part of themselves is what will embed itself within them, it's what will forever last in their memories. Even as Erin pats his chest to gently push him from on top of her in order to breathe and cool things a bit, the lingering feeling of their lips moving against the other last. They smile; they're out of breath and gasping delicately for air. Erin sits up just as he moves back, "We got a little ahead of ourselves," as the heat rises to her cheeks, she removes her leather jacket from her arms, "Back to what we were initially talking about, what about your other members?"

"Okay," he's a little disappointed but he doesn't allow it to show, "there's Ruzek; he plays the drums. He's the only one in the band who's off the market. He's married to our wardrobe coordinator; they were high school sweethearts. And I must mention, I think Kim's a bigger fan of yours than Mouse. I'm pretty sure that when you meet her, she'll try to convince you that when you're old enough, you should run for president."

There's a smug grin on her face, "That's kind of her to think I could win but there's absolutely no future in politics for me. I prefer to make a difference during the things I'm doing right now."

"Our manager, Will, is my brother and besides my dad, he's the only family I have left," at his admittance, her posture straightens; her nonverbal cues shift and transform to a melancholic expression as he continues, "my mom died when I was young and my dad, we haven't really gotten along; we're estranged. And you don't have to say you're sorry or give me your sympathies," he asserts before she has the chance, "We can just move the conversation along," and she reads between the lines; the topic of his family was off limits, at least for right now.

"We can talk about whatever you wish."

"And then there's Rixton," he sighs.

It's the look on his face, the exhaustion in his eyes and the crease in his brow that has her interested over what Jay has to say about this specific member of the band. She couldn't guess; his face was unreadable. And before he could formulate the words to respond, he reaches for her hands, "I have a love-hate relationship with the guy. He'll be the one on keyboard. Kenny, you could say is the one that's most like me; we're the ones with the bad reputations, we're the faces of the band. We clash; a lot. It's no secret about my reputation for casual hookups," she swallowed at that; she remembered reading about his bad boy status online and the hopeful feeling she had that it was all false news, and as it turns out, it wasn't, "I'm more safe with them you can say; Rixton's a bit more reckless. He was engaged once before to a retired politician's daughter; she left him for a surgeon a few days before the wedding."

"That had to be rough."

Jay slowly nods, struggling to avoid thinking back to that time, "Kenny went on a downward spiral after that. You can say he has major commitment issues but it's more than that; he's against love and he's practically against women, especially those that come from a place of power," he bites his lip, choosing to tell her the whole truth, "and yeah, I'm keeping you away because I want us to enjoy this and try to get to know each other in the hopes that something comes about it, but I also did it-"

"…because you're afraid of what Rixton will think," she finishes his sentence.

"I'm not afraid of what he'll think," he quickly corrects, "I just don't feel like arguing with him, especially because after he went through the breakup, we kind of made a pact; no serious relationships, no dating and no commitments."

"And I'm ruining that," she whispered, putting all of the pieces together.

"This is just our first date."

"But you see the potential for more otherwise meeting your bandmates wouldn't be a problem."

He regretfully nods, "You're very inquisitive."

"It's one of the many reasons I'm good at what I do."

The response he had planned, one jokingly mocking her confidence is interrupted when they hear music playing and the voices of thousands of people. She rises from her seat first and he follows closely behind her as she heads over to the edge, peering out of the tinted window towards the stage. The instruments are being placed and set up, music is playing to fill the arena and moving bodies appear below as fans excitedly head towards their seats. Time seems to have escaped them; they've talked longer than expected. Erin's palm opened and pressed longingly against the glass, "I was looking forward to that tour," he gently pulls her away from the glass, "but I know that's not going to happen today. Duty calls and you have to go."

"This skybox is reserved; no one knows you're attending so you should be fine."

She wasn't worried about that. And he knew it; he was simply making casual conversation.

Jay pulls his cell from his pocket and unsurprising to him, he discovers a few missed calls and text messages from Will, most likely freaking out and concerned about where Jay had disappeared. He needed to go. And as he walks to the door, he hears her following closely behind, "There's still pizza leftover if you get hungry. There's a microwave over in one of those cabinets if you need to heat it up. The private bathroom is through that door," he points off to the side, "and that's pretty much it; I hope you do enjoy the show," he turns to leave.

"Wait," she reaches out to stop him. And he does heed her call.

Erin walks around him, standing between him and his access to the door. She reaches for his hand, "I just wanted to say break a leg," the smile she offers him reveals those beautiful dimples.

It urges him to lean forward slowly, his intentions glistening in his eyes. It didn't take long for her to know what he wanted. And the best way to let him know was by meeting him halfway, her lips just gently brushing against his. Their kiss was short and sweet, barely anything at all. And yet, it ignited something within him, something he has never once felt before in his life. It's a feeling that has the likelihood of progressing into something more yet with his impending concert only minutes away, he's forced to step back, "I really enjoyed your company today; I want to see you again, maybe take you out somewhere where the media won't find us, somewhere where I don't have to leave in the middle of it."

"I would like that; I would like it a lot."

Jay leans down to kiss her soundly, "Stay after the concert. Don't leave right when it's over. I want to wish you a proper goodnight."

"And all the articles I read said you didn't have a romantic bone in your body."

"So you have read about me."

"If I must admit," she casually shrugs it off.

And he's forced back into reality, forced to pop the bubble that excluded them from the outside world, "I should really be going before the band sends out a search party."

"You're right," her lips come to gently align upon his cheek, "Good luck Jay."

The door opens and she briefly sees her guards before it shut; they remain posted up outside her skybox, appearing to be unbothered by the constant standing they're paid to do. It's a tolerance they built up but Erin still feels bad. She grabs a few foldable chairs and drags them, "Guys," she calls out and almost immediately her guards are entering the room, "Take a chair, grab a slice of pizza and please get comfortable," she practically orders.

"We'll get comfortable in the hallway," Dawson grabs a foldable chair.

"Why the hallway? It's plenty of room in here."

Atwater carries his chair out, "We have to be on guard. We need to be aware if anyone or anything approaches. We won't be much help if we're watching the concert with you."

"I'm good company," she reminds, just as Sorensen reappears after taking his chair into the hall.

"We have no complaints against that, but you must remember Erin, we're your guards first and your friends second," it pains Sorensen to say the words but it was the truth. They were hired to watch her back, protect her and keep her safe. And sometimes that fine line was blurred since they spend more time with her than her actual friends do.

She collects the box of pizza, "Very well," Erin hands it over to Roman, "I'll see you guys when the show is over."

No further words are said as they depart from the room, carrying their chairs and the remainder of the large pizza. She's left alone in a room that's foreign to her. She's practically used to it though, being alone, surrounded by no one. She's 26; she has very few friends, she hasn't dated in forever and her parents were by definition, workaholics. She was used to it, at least she should be used to it, but there's something that remains inside of her that craves companionship.

When she hears the band introduced and the rounds of applause and shouts from fans follow, she knows they've entered onto the stage. She approaches the window, peering outside its tinted screen as Jay goes to the microphone. With the electric guitar around his shoulders, he says a few words to the audience that melts all of their hearts and makes the single women swoon. It doesn't affect her though but what does get to her is the first song his band –District 21- plays; it's something about the beat combined with the lyrics that fills her mind with racing thoughts. This song takes her on a ride when it initially starts slow and picks up in speed. It's this song, it's the first song the band decides to play and she's happy for it; it draws her in and has her looking forward to the remainder of the show. And as the concert goes on, she watches the celebration, the cheers and the love in the audience. It's endearing and while she loved being away from the crowd, a large part of her wanted to be a part of it.

As the band continues to play, she finds herself falling in love with the music. It takes her on a ride, a journey through the minds of the band. She knows most of the songs were written by Jay, she knows it based off the research she did on him late last night –or extremely early this morning- and she knows by the interviews she watched that he lost himself in his music. It served as an escape. Erin watched him own the stage; he embraced the crowd along with his bandmates as they performed song after song, each one better than the last.

Each song played upon a different chord, brought about a different mood that earned varying reactions from the audience. Some jumped up and down, some screamed out their favorite band members' names, some held up signs expressing their love for each member and one lady in particular managed to take her bra off and throw it onto the stage, screaming excitedly when it landed at Jay's feet. It isn't until Jay lifts it up that Erin quirk her brows. He carries the undergarment off stage and she suddenly realizes that it's already intermission.

Erin heads towards the couch, retaking her seat on the uncomfortable cushion when she feels her phone vibrate in her pocket. It's a text message from Jay.

 _What do you think so far? –JH_

 _You were great, better than great actually, you were amazing, -EV_

It's obvious she's rubbing his ego, but she says nothing that's not true. This was the first, the only concert she's ever attended. She's wanted to come to one for years but she never found the time. And now that she's here, she realizes just how much she missed out.

 _That means a lot coming from you, -JH_

Her response is of a different subject matter, _I'm curious to know though, what happened to her bra, -EV_

 _I give them to Kim and I have no idea what she does with them, -JH_

Erin doesn't get a moment to respond back, just when she's typing her follow up reply, there's a soft knock at the door and Jay dips inside after alerting her of his presence. She wasn't expecting to see him until after the show, but his appearance is definitely a welcomed surprise. Erin stands, before casually walking over to meet him halfway, "According to that countdown on the screen, intermission ends in eight minutes."

"And I'll be back by then," he confidently asserts, "but I didn't sneak off to be reminded that I'm currently on a schedule. I got away to pay you a visit."

"You have to tell me how it feels to be on that stage," her voiced is filled with a childlike excitement as her eyes are wide in wonder and astonishment; she rushes over to the tinted window and stares at the flutter of movement down below.

Jay stands beside her, peering down at the sitting fans below. It's a tinted window, perfect for looking out but difficult and next to impossible to look in. She sits high above the crowd, angled towards the stage and he occasionally glances up to check the countdown –six minutes.

"When you're up there," they both stare down at the stage, "you get a rush. When the crowd is cheering, screaming your name and singing along to your music, that feeling you get is indescribable. It's a rush of adrenaline. I feel like a completely different person up there; no reputation to change or uphold, no paparazzi, no press, no worries. I'm just me."

"It's nice how you talk about performing. There's a fire in your eyes that shines when you talk about it," she turns, leaning against the inside railing to face him, "It's refreshing."

"I'm happy you came."

And before she has the opportunity to respond, she feels him wrap his arms around her waist and pull her against him, preparing to give her some sort of a hug when he realizes what he's done.

"I'm sorry for being so," he struggles to think of the right word, "forceful." He removes his arm.

"Its fine," she reassures, moving closer towards him, "you're just happy. And I kind of liked it," she's mere inches away, practically flushed against him except for the few inches of space between them; she reaches for his arm and circles it back around her waist, "See," she looks up at him and smiles, "I won't break."

Since kissing her the first two times, it's been all he could think of doing. It has felt like forever since he kissed her and with three minutes left on the clock, he knew that if he wanted another kiss before hitting the stage, now was the time. However, she was one step ahead of him, already rising to the tip of her toes to press the gentlest of kisses against his lips. It's soft. It's teasing. And when she draws away, leaning her forehead against his, it leaves him wanting more.

"You have to go."

He sighs, "Remember, don't leave."

"I won't," she promises, squeezing his upper arm reassuringly.

Jay steps back, takes one glance at the clock and realizes that he'll have to run back. It's less than a minute left and he's out the door quicker than she can process it. She's left standing, reminding herself that this was only their first date, yet she felt this strong attraction towards him. She's been on plenty of dates, but none of them got a kiss or their hand held on the first one. Yet, here she is, standing in a skybox alone after kissing a rock star for the third time in one day.

Her thoughts are interrupted once more when she hears the loud cheering, screaming and hysterical crying filling the arena from the fans. The band is back on and they pick up right where they left off. The music continues to be intense; the performers own the stage, entertain the crowd and play the strings or the keys of their instruments. The fans are jumping, pounding their fists in the air as they sing along to the last song. Erin doesn't know when she'll be able to make it to another concert; she didn't know whether she'll ever be invited to another concert, so she embraces this song to the fullest. She pictures herself in the crowd, she jumps up and down, and she bobs her head to the beat of the music, allowing her loose curls to swing wildly around as the beat of the song increases. This was probably her favorite song of the night. She definitely needed to learn the lyrics to his music.

This night had been epic, and even though she was alone for some of it, this date was well deserving of a second one. She stood above the crowd, hidden in a skybox behind a tinted glass, watching as the fans dispersed from the arena. She felt a pull to be a part of that madness but another part of her appreciated the solitude. If she were ever invited to another concert –as his date- she would join the crowd. She would be a part of the real experience. Her security would have to do whatever it is they want to ensure her safety, but she's going to be a part of it. Up front and center, cheering him on in a location where he can perfectly see her.

Her thoughts are once again interrupted when he entered, "You stayed."

She turns around to find him holding two cups of coffee, "I told you I would," Erin met him halfway and thanked him with a smile for the mug of caffeine, "How did you manage to explain leaving with two cups of coffee?"

"You don't have to explain anything if they don't see you."

Before Jay decides to take a sip of his brewed cup, he waits and watches for her reaction. When her lips settle on the mug and tip it back to take the smallest sip, by the immediate scrunched up facial expression, he could tell she didn't prefer it. If she was desperate for the cup, she would have sucked it up and forced herself to drink it, but the strong flavor, not masked by much milk, sugar and cream, was too powerful for her palate. Erin regrettably handed the cup back to him, "It's not that it's horrible, it's just," she admits, setting it down onto the bar top, "coffee has such a strong taste and I love to tone it down as much as possible."

"I still owe you a beverage until I get it right and I will get it right."

"I'm counting on it."

"So," Jay takes a sip of his coffee, "how was our first date? I know it's not the stereotypical first date style that many women dream of but I'm hoping it's something you remember."

"Even though my date dipped in and out, I did have fun."

"Enough fun to agree to go on another date with me?"

She crosses her arms over her chest, "I like you Jay. And I guess it goes to show, you can't believe everything you read online. You already know that I searched you on the internet," he chews upon his lower lip and nods, "and every article I've come across either talks about your career, your sales or your inability to keep it in your pants," her words surprise him but she continues anyway, "You'll find that I'm very forward; I get it from my dad, but Jay before I agree to anything, I must say that when I date, I date with the potential to commit. I don't date to be another notch on someone's bedpost. I like you," she grabs his hand, "I want to go out with you again, but not at the expense of having my name added to the string of broken hearts you leave behind. When my name is in the news or when my face is on magazines, it's either because of a rumor, something great I've done in my professional life or something honorable I've done as the first daughter. Reelection is next year. And what I don't need –and what my father doesn't need- is to see my face on the front of a magazine with an embarrassing headline of how I let myself fall for a known heartbreaker and bad boy."

The hand that holds his opens its fingers to intertwine together. She doesn't withdraw it, she simply tightens her grip. Erin waits for his response; she watches as the wheels turn in his head, he's thinking of the words she said. And he finds himself surprised because he's actually considering them; he's not running for the hills at the thought of a second date, of a real relationship with her. She knew what she wanted and she had no qualms in letting him know it too. It just reminds him about how different she is from the other girls. Most women –he didn't sleep with celebrities or high profile people- but most women settled for whatever he was willing to offer, just the thought that a rich rock star wanted them was enough for them to give themselves over to him, and now he's come across someone different and he found himself liking it.

"I want to go out with you again."

She gives him a smile that is just so genuinely sweet with just the right touch of purity, providing Jay with the guaranteed feeling that he's making the right choice. He can put away his old ways to develop new ones for her. He can do it. He knows he can. It's just going to take a bit of effort on his part. The way her lips lifted up, the way her dimples enhance that beautiful smile of hers, the way her teeth are perfectly aligned, it all contributes to her gorgeous smile; it all assures Jay that he's making the right decision, it'll be worth it.

"Great," Erin continued to hold his hand and she reached for his other, "How long are you supposed to be in D.C.?"

"Two weeks; I have a concert in Annapolis, Maryland this Thursday and another concert in Richmond, Virginia next Friday. I'm free tomorrow though."

"I'm going to an orphanage tomorrow morning and then I have work," her thumbs brush softly over his knuckles, "What about the next day? I can take off from work."

"I can't; I'll be with my manager and the band checking out the concert location in Annapolis. It could last all day if Will decides to throw in a rehearsal. What about the day after that?"

"I'm visiting an elementary school the entire day."

"And I can't do Thursday because of my concert."

"We'll figure this out."

"Your schedule is most likely fuller than mine, so how about you tell me all the days you're free?"

"I can take a half a day on Friday."

"I don't want to interfere with your work."

"That's not a problem," she assures him, tightening her hold on his hands, "while you're at your concert the night before, I'll just work a little later."

"I thought you promised your guards that you'll get off at a reasonable hour for the next few weeks."

She smirked, "True, but that doesn't mean I can't work from home."

"So Friday?"

Their hands separate as she nods adamantly, "Friday it is."

And there it is; it's official, the first daughter and the rock star will be going on a second date on Friday.


	3. Roadside Diner

Erin listened to every thought, every fear, every musing and every nervous word and gesture radiating off the young man beside her –her client. Over the span of two days, she argued his case, providing witnesses and past grievances to prove the defendant refused to sell a home to her client for the sole basis of being married to another young individual who happened to be of the same sex. Erin needed to win this, if not for her client, then for the simple fact of not letting hate or discrimination or bigotry win. Most of the lawyers at the firm she works at have years of experience under their belts, and most of those same lawyers, would call her naïve and guileless, sometimes going so far as to say the only reason she was hired in the first place is because she's the daughter of the president. Erin earned this position; she went above and beyond to prove herself by coming in to the office early, leaving late and volunteering to take the riskiest cases.

A passionate young woman with avid determination and fortitude that appeared every time she spoke in front of a judge or jury, defending the plaintiff and providing a voice to those who are silenced in society. She was a warrior in the courtroom; her words are sharp and her ability to pick apart the opposition's argument in order to shed light on their pernicious fallacy. And even though this wasn't her first case brought to trial, this case felt bigger than the others. This case, no one in her firm wanted to take on. This case, the entire firm saw as a lost cause with circumstantial evidence and some unreliable witnesses; this case, by winning it, will prove to the so called experienced lawyers that sometimes an open mind, a fresh perspective and a vibrant, compassionate and by their words a naïve personality can get the job done.

When the judge reads the verdict, she feels the world around her slow down. It pauses momentarily before resuming at normal speed. She sees the young man beside her shedding happy tears and his family behind him claps in support. She offered her hand, the maroon-painted, manicured nails wrapped around his hand and the grin on his face stretched wider. Her hand was soft, warm and comforting, and even though his hand was rough and sweaty from his nerves, she remained professional and kept her grip tight. For him, the handshake wasn't enough; he wraps both hands around her one and stands, "Ms. Voight, thank you," he pulls her to her feet and wraps her up in a warm swaddle against his chest and in his arms.

"You're welcome," she withdraws from the embrace just as his husband approaches, "Congratulations you two, and I hope you find that dream home of yours."

As the couple leaves to go face reporters, Erin remains behind, taking her time to stack her case files. She wanted to give everyone the opportunity to leave and purposefully took her time to get ready in order to do so. Erin grabs her briefcase and lays it down flat on the table, "I'll be done soon guys," she calls out to her guards as they continue to stand at the back of the courtroom, silently watching and waiting for her.

At the corner of her table her phone lights up and an instant smile stretches across her face. It's obvious who was texting her; she had told him this morning what time she would be finished for the day. And unsurprising to her, he remembered and had sent her a text a few minutes after the trial had ended. She shuts her briefcase and reaches for her phone, smiling softly at his message written across her screen, _I found the perfect location for our second date tonight that matched the criteria we discussed over the phone two days ago; it's a 50s diner that's private, no paparazzi and it's away from the city on a side road in Virginia, -JH_

 _Sounds great, -EV_

Erin slid her cell into the pocket of her blazer and gripped the handle of her briefcase. She appeared proud and confident as she made her way through the short swinging doors separating one half of the courtroom from the other, "Ms. Voight," the defendant's lawyer shouts out, jogging over to approach. Her guards step in, creating a barrier between her and the opposing attorney, "Erin, can you please send your goons elsewhere? I come in peace."

"Guys it's fine," she whispered, maneuvering through the barrier they created with their bodies, "What do you want Landon?"

"I came to say congratulations."

"Thank you," and when she turns to leave once more, he calls out for her. She has a date tonight and now that she's off from work, she was ready to get home and prepare for it.

"You did great in there."

This earns her attention; Landon never compliments her. For as long as she's known him –since her first year of law school- he has never so much as praised anything she's done, at least not without wanting something in return.

Erin chuckled lightly and then smiled at his approval, "What do you want?"

"What makes you think I want anything?"

She scratches her chin, "…maybe because that's the only time you ever compliment me."

"I disagree."

"You complimented me when we first met because you wanted a date."

"And you said no," he reminded.

"You complimented me once to see if I could get my dad to write a letter of recommendation for you."

"And you said no," he repeated.

"You complimented me after graduation to see if my dad could put in a good word for you at a few of the law firms you applied to."

"And you said no," he reiterated.

"Yet, you remain persistent."

Landon moves in closer, forcing her guards to take a step forward, meeting him halfway. He throws his hands up into the air, showing them that he means no harm as he continues to approach, "For the life of me, I'll never understand how you could turn me down, but I understand why you rejected me on my other requests. It's because I don't know your father and have never met him; I was making some pretty big demands back then, but this is different."

"And you were trying to lead me to believe that you didn't want anything."

"Be kind to me," he smirked.

"Depends on how you're trying to use me."

"I need a job."

"Last time I checked, you had one," she hands Sorensen her briefcase and approaches Landon, "or was I mistaken and the defendant had a different lawyer?"

"All I need for you to do is put in a good word for me."

Erin pulls her cell phone out of her pocket after it vibrates; her attention is drawn to it more than the conversation she's having with Landon and without further entertaining the conversation, she slowly starts to back away, smiling to herself as she reads Jay's message, _How rude of me? I heard that you won your case; congratulations Erin, -JH_

"Is that a yes?"

Erin smiles up at her guards as they hold the courtroom doors open for her, "I'll think about it." The doors shut behind her, "Kevin, I forwarded you the address of where my date will be tonight. That way you can check the surroundings, make phone calls and do what it is you usually do," he grins and shakes his head amusedly.

"It's a good thing you're not in charge of your safety."

There was a burst of laughter radiating from her; she pats the back of Atwater's shoulder, nudging him goofily as they walk out of the courthouse. It's a good day. The sun is shining above them, the media are interviewing the plaintiffs and she had a date with a nice guy tonight. Erin felt good. She felt really good. As she descended down upon the outside steps of the courthouse, the melody of her ringtone alerted the paparazzi of her presence. She felt Dawson's hand press against her lower back, guiding her through the swarm of people, "Hello," she answered.

"Hey kid," the rough, raspy nature of her father's voice vibrates through the phone.

"You heard the good news?"

"I did," he leans back in his leather seat, kicking his legs up and crossing them at his ankles, "I was calling for two reasons. One is to congratulate you."

"Thanks dad."

"And the second is to check in on you. I see your brother every day and I haven't heard from you since the state dinner."

Erin mouthed her thanks to Atwater as he opened the backseat door for her; she climbed in carefully and responded, "I'm fine. I've been a little busy so sorry about that," she buckles herself in and kicks off her heels, "Landon asked me for another favor today."

"Screw the guy; he only talks to you when he wants something from you."

Erin pulls her briefcase onto the leather seat. Sorensen had slid the carrycase into the backseat after she entered. And now as she opens it beside her and pulls out her next case file, she sets her phone down and puts the device on speaker, allowing her father's gruff voice to fill the inside of the car, "You know I'll be traveling to Japan in a few days. I'm inviting you."

She makes casual highlights along her case notes, "You know I can't come. You're supposed to extend the invitation to me either weeks or months in advance, not days' dad."

"You're my little sidekick," he chuckles, earning an annoyed roll of the eye from her.

"How about you take Olinsky?"

"He's the vice president," Voight reminds, waving for his assistant to enter the office, "there's security policies against traveling together. And besides, he's busy with his own duties."

"Take mom," she says it as if it's the most obvious choice.

"You and I both know your mother hates long flights, anything over six hours-"

"She starts to feel confined," Erin finishes.

The ride back to her place isn't the best; it's full of bumps, traffic and the excessive use of brakes as cars wildly weaved in and out of lanes. She rereads the last sentence in her case notes for the fifth time in a row, struggling to focus as her dad tells her about his press conference and the cars around her honk at each other. It's all distracting. All of the outside interference make it difficult for her to focus on work. And just as her dad poses his next question, "We're still on for our UK trip later this year, right?" she shuts the file and stuffs it back into her briefcase.

"Of course, even though technically it's not our UK trip because it's not a vacation, it's solely work-related, we're still on. Nothing will stop me from going."

"Good." A long pause of silence follows as he slowly nods; he signs a few documents and waves for his assistant to leave the room; this was his time with his daughter, "What are you doing today kid? Any plans to celebrate your win."

She chooses her words carefully, "I'm going out with a friend."

"Anyone I know?"

"Nope," just as Erin answers, the truck parallel parks in their assigned spot, "Dad, we just parked in front of my building. Can I give you a call later?"

"You live three blocks away, how about you just visit?"

"Tomorrow," she replies.

"I'll hold you to your word."

As she hangs up, she notices the back door is opened with her guards taking a protective stand in front of it. She slides her heels back onto her feet, grabs her briefcase and carefully steps out of the vehicle; Roman allows her to use his offered hand to ensure she didn't trip, "Thanks."

Atwater and Dawson lead the way with Roman and Sorensen taking up the rear, protectively observing their surroundings in order to ensure the first daughter remained safe. She's texting on her phone, nodding her thanks to the doorman as he holds the entrance door opened for her. She never got to respond to Jay's earlier message and when she simply types out, _Thank you, -EV,_ she hits send moments afterwards.

Her legs carry her through the lobby and towards the elevator, stopping briefly only to wait for the doors to open. Sorensen presses the button for her; the highest floor of the entire building with access to the rooftop if wanted was the perfect size and location, according to her mother, for a young, successful, city girl. As the doors opened, the first thing her eyes are met with is a vase with a purple ribbon tied around the glass sitting on the carpeted floor outside of her condo. It's by no mistake they're there for her. Her door is the only door on this floor; she's the only person living here, and who can live on this floor.

Inside the vase are a dozen white lilies appearing to be real, bloomed and beautifully spread fully inside the expensive vase. She takes a step towards them, freezing momentarily as she looks astonishingly at them. Sorensen takes her briefcase from her hands and nods for her to approach and once she stoops low to smell the flowers, she notices a store bought card clipped to the back of the flowers, "A card is attached."

"We all know who they're from," Roman responds, using his spare key to unlock her door.

And while his words were true, she remained just as surprised when she saw his name etched out on the bottom of the card, below a message that reads, _we haven't seen each other for almost a whole week, so I wanted to get you some flowers to let you know I do want this. I don't know your favorite color and I don't know your favorite flower, but I'll learn it one day. When I walked inside the florist shop –I managed to avoid the paparazzi so no one knows I was there, I should add- but when I walked inside, this sweet older lady helped me pick out the perfect flower. She said white lilies represented beauty, class and style; she said the white lily is the best flower to convey the message of telling someone I feel like I'm on cloud nine with you. Like I said Erin, I told you, I'm serious about this. –JH_

For the first time, she lifts the entire vase, bringing the lilies towards her to smell their natural scent. With her eyes closed, it allows her sense of smell to completely kick in, inhaling the bloom of spring flowers that have fortunately been gifted to her. Atwater nudges her shoulder and smiles knowingly, "You certainly seem to have taken an interest in him."

"Is it that obvious?" She leads him inside and walks to set the vase down in the center of her dark walnut, rectangular shaped coffee table. The vase adds something to the décor; the cream colored ribbon wrapped around the glass of the vase matches her throw pillows cushioned on her light green sofa. She uses the tips of her fingers to adjust the lilies in the vase in order to spread them around evenly before inhaling another whiff of the flowers.

"It's as clear as day," Atwater answers, "Just be careful."

"Aren't I always?"

"He has quite the reputation," Roman refuted.

"I'm aware," Erin shrugs, mindlessly toying with the petals of the lilies, "it doesn't mean he can't change though. We all have the potential for change."

"Your optimism is endearing," Sorensen acknowledged.

And Erin simply smiled, soaking in the concerns and the compliments of her guys; she brushed her hands over her lap and maneuvered through them, "That's sweet of you to say, but on that note, I must get ready for my date tonight."

-x-

Throughout the week, Erin and Jay had stayed in contact, whether it was through social media, text messaging or phone calls, they didn't go long without speaking to the other. None of it was forced, it all came natural. From the good morning texts to their goodnight texts, it all became the norm in the span of one week. They had a routine; a pattern going with an understanding; if speaking on social media, their conversation remained platonic and steered more towards friendship. If privately speaking through text messages, phone calls or even direct message on a social media platform, there became a fine line between platonic and flirtation that they didn't mind crossing. It was all part of the courting process, a process that proved to be difficult when done between two well-known, publicized people in the country.

As the time for their date approached, Jay saw that he had anticipated it more impatiently than he would have guessed. He had been ready way in advance, and now to pass the time, he comfortably rested on the couch in his brother's hotel room, smiling as he read Erin's last message, _I received the flowers you had delivered and I must say, they were absolutely beautiful; they were perfect Jay. And if I recall correctly, in your note you mentioned how you wanted to know my favorite flower, but I think since receiving your gift, I might have changed it, -EV_

 _To what, -JH_

 _White lilies if you haven't already guessed, -EV_

 _I'm glad you liked them, -JH_

 _Liked them, I loved them Jay, thank you, -EV_

The longer he sat on the couch, watching time tick by slowly, the more impatient and anxious he grew. His foot is tapping against the multicolored hotel carpet; it's a clear sign of his nerves, but he didn't understand them. He didn't want to understand them. He was Jay Halstead, the lead singer and guitarist of a popular band in one of the greatest nations. This wasn't him. It wasn't like him to be nervous over a girl, especially one that he had already gone out with on a date.

There was no way Jay could remain sitting, watching the clock and waiting; it was no way. So, he swiftly swipes his leather jacket off the back of the armchair. He slid his arms through the sleeves and zipped the black jacket up before stuffing his hands into the pockets.

"Where are you going Jay?" His brother speaks up and earns the attention of Rixton. Both curious and both stare, waiting for an answer.

He lies easily, "I'm going to clear my mind."

"Alright," Will says, as if he's granting his brother permission, "remember, no drinking and driving and no working to maintain that bad boy image."

"You don't need to worry about that." And in all honesty, his brother didn't.

Will smiles, for the first time since managing the band, he relaxes, "Good."

Jay manages to make it halfway across the room before Rixton decides to speak, before he decides to offer an unwarranted and an unneeded comment. Out of everyone in the band, Rixton would be the last one to find out about Erin, and if Jay had any say in the matter, he would never learn about her, regardless of if they're friends or not. Rixton was too opinionated. Rixton didn't mind sharing those opinions, even if they crossed that fine line between respectful and rude. Jay hesitated by the door, awaiting whatever question Kenny was going to pose, "Are you losing your spark?"

"No," Jay exits the hotel room before lowering his voice and finishing his sentence, "I think I'm actually finding it."

His feet carry him along the tiled marble floor. He honestly has no idea where he's going until he winds up in the lobby of the hotel. The band had only rented one rental car and Ruzek and Burgess were currently using it. He wouldn't be able to go anywhere until they got back. He wouldn't be able to see her. He had to drive a little over an hour away just to meet up with her outside of the city, but the plan they set in place, was already being ruined by Ruzek staying out with his wife a little later than planned. And by some string of luck, fate or the power of some unseeable force puts Adam and Kim in his pathway; they're walking inside the hotel, holding hands and shopping bags. He doesn't waste a second; he rushes across the lobby of the hotel and practically holds his hand out for the keys.

"Where are you off to?" Ruzek practically ignores his extended hand.

"I need the keys to the rental car."

As Adam hands the keys over, Burgess slowly eyes her friend up and down, "You smell good. You're wearing your nice button up shirt with the new pair of jeans you bought yesterday," she's very perceptive, "You look casual but you're a, I'm trying to impress someone type of casual. Tell me, where are you going on a beautiful evening like today?"

"I'm just going to clear my head. I'll probably take a drive around the city and look at the sites."

It's completely obvious that Burgess sees through it, she picks up on his lack of eye contact, the sweat appearing above his brow and the way his fingers toy with the outline of the car keys. She picks up on it and he's fully aware of that, especially when she turns to her husband and sends him off to the gift shop in the hotel to buy her a souvenir. His excuse had worked on Ruzek; his bandmate had simply dropped the interrogation and saw no problem when his wife sent him off on a journey to collect some mediocre souvenir when they literally just came back from shopping most of the day.

"So, Adam's gone," she crosses her arms over her chest, "so tell me, where are you really going?"

"I'm just going to go for a drive."

"Jay…"

"Kim, I'm going for a drive; let's leave it at that," his words are final; she knows not to pester him about it anymore. Burgess wants to argue, she wants to call him out for blatantly lying to their faces, but Kim retreats. She settles on the fact that she knows Halstead, and she knows that he wouldn't lie about where he was going unless it was for a good reason. And to his relief, she nods and lets it go; she backs away, watching as he turned to head out of the hotel.

Jay had been held up long enough; he had started to notice the sun starting to set outside and he still needed to drive over an hour away. He had to encounter city traffic, rush hour and construction just to have dinner in a faraway diner to avoid the paparazzi. All of the honking, the avoidance of car accidents and the unpaved streets that cause the car to bounce uncomfortably was going to be worth it as he drives onto the dirt road and finally pulls up in front of the diner.

He shoots off a quick message, _I just arrived, -JH_

As Jay steps out of the rental car, he takes in his surroundings. There's no way the paparazzi would find them here. The parking lot is basically a dirty road; the cars that fill the lot consist mainly of pickup trucks and the diner itself is about as long as a mobile home. Jay carefully walks through the dried dirt of the parking lot, being careful not to muck up his shoes, but when his phone buzzes in his pocket and he gets a message from Erin, he forgets about walking careful and simply strolls unbothered through the parking lot and up the outside steps of the diner as he checks it.

 _I'm not there yet; I'm on my way! Grab a table, -EV_

Jay had already been running late; he sat in his car for a good twenty minutes before even deciding to come out. He didn't see her guards' truck anywhere around so he should have known she wasn't even here, but he had hoped. He had sent her the text in an effort to lighten the mood before walking inside, thinking she was here and was most likely upset at his tardiness. And as it turns out, she wasn't even here yet, she wasn't even on time. Jay shoves his cell back into his pocket and with a heavy sigh; he enters into the aged and old-fashioned diner. A bell above the front door of the eatery rang as he stepped inside, alerting the two employees –the waitress and the chef- and the few patrons of his presence. The diner was such a tiny place, styled in 50s, and off an unpopulated highway in Virginia to steer clear of paparazzi. Jay nodded towards a checkered table in the corner, alerting the waitress of his chosen seat. He dragged his feet towards it; there was no point in rushing, she was running late anyway. She had sent him an apology as the minutes continued to tick on by. This was their second date and if it wasn't for how amazing the first date went, he would have left. She was pushing on being over a half an hour late now.

Jay toyed with the salt and pepper shakers, looking for ways to pass the time. The simple distraction of playing around with the condiments on the table had only served to distract him for a few minutes. Glancing over the menu until he found what he wanted to order diverted his attention away from the eyes of the diner's regular customers; it was possible that they were staring at him because he was the only unfamiliar face in a diner with patrons who visited almost every single day or it could have been because he was a familiar face that they recognized on television or on the front page of many celebrity magazines. Whatever reason they had for staring, he didn't care. This was a second date and even though she was approaching being forty-five minutes late, he was not going to let anything ruin it.

The menu in his hands is set down the second he knows what he wants to order. Now, all that's left for him to do is wait. It was brushing upon the one hour mark and she still wasn't here.

The tips of his fingers traced the checkered outline on the table, using this as another method to distract him, that is, until he notices someone approach. He sees the outline of a woman in his peripheral, standing at the side of his table, "Is this seat taken?" an unfamiliar voice queried.

Jay looked up from the table and silently nodded, "Yeah, my uh, friend," he didn't know what they were to each other, "should be here any minute."

It was the first moment, or opportunity that has arisen for him to take in the woman standing perky beside him. Jay gave the woman a once over, taking in every feature including the seductive smirk she had plastered across her face. If this was a week ago, before he met Erin, he would have been tempted; he would have positively asserted his confidence and wooed this woman off her feet. He would have said screw dinner and took her in the bathroom to show her exactly why women couldn't resist his charm, but things changed, he felt like he was changing and he had only known Erin personally for about a week. He was changing into a man he barely recognized and it was all her fault.

"A friend, huh?" she asked for clarification, her fingers lightly brushing up and down his exposed forearm; he watches it, but doesn't stop her, "you've been sitting here for almost an hour and I've been watching, your friend is a no show. Are you sure you don't want the company because it's unfortunate that you're sitting here all alone in this diner on a Friday night?"

"Well it's a good thing he's not alone."

The girl was startled. She jumped back, pulling her hand away from Jay's forearm. Her brown eyes were wide as she took in the person who ruined their moment. She immediately recognized her; it was the first daughter. It was the president's daughter and she currently had four secret service guards surrounding her. Erin nodded for them to disperse, and they separated to scope out the restaurant in order to ensure themselves that it's safe. The woman watched two of them position themselves in separate corners of the diner while the other two went to stand outside.

Erin smiled innocently, bypassing the woman to approach him. She set her hand down upon his shoulder and smiled, "Sorry I'm late," and before he could respond and accept her apology, she's leaning down to kiss him. When her lips brush against his, he becomes fully aware that this kiss isn't full of the innocent nature she wanted outsiders to see, this kiss was full of tease, of passion and of a clear message to the woman watching –back off.

The stranger disappeared by the time the kiss ended. She was too embarrassed to face it and no one could blame her for it. Erin straightened up and slid into the seat across from him.

"You have good timing," he's breathless.

"It can't be that good; I didn't get here before she started hitting on you."

Jay smirks when he notices the fire burning intensely behind her eyes. Could that be what he thinks it is? Could that be a look of jealousy laced with a bit of possessiveness? Whatever it is he saw, he didn't mind it at all. Normally its fans of his that are jealous of a rumored relationship, but it was never from someone he was actually interested in.

"Let's start over. Hi," he greeted.

"Hi," she smiled, biting her lip to suppress her obvious interest.

It was just then that the waitress had walked over; she's completely flustered and nervous to be in the presence of two well-known people. In her arrival, she accidentally bumps into the table, alerting them of her presence and darkening the reddened tint on her cheeks. She uses the notepad in her hand to hide as much of her face as possible, "Hi, I'm Gracie. I'm the only server working tonight so thank you for your patience," it was really no bother; Erin had only arrived minutes ago, "Can I get you anything?"

"Yeah, could I have, the uh bacon cheeseburger with fries."

Erin slides the menu from in front of him, "That sounds really good. I would like the same thing with," she scans the drink options, "a double hot chocolate."

She jots it down and turns back to Jay, "And what about you sir?"

"Can I have a sweet tea?"

Gracie writes the last of the order down and takes away the one menu before heading towards the kitchen. She leaves the young couple at their table in their own little world, completely oblivious of the casual glances the patrons toss their way.

"You know when you said you'll find a place," she glances around, "I didn't expect it to be this."

"Is it too average for someone of your status?" He jokes.

The smile on her face grew wider, "That's not what I'm saying. I just feel a little over dressed," she whispers, glancing down embarrassingly at her maroon lace dress with a thin black belt buckled across the front, "I could have just worn shorts and a t-shirt or something less…formal."

"You look beautiful."

"I look ridiculous," she retorts amusedly, "people are staring."

"Erin, they're not staring because of what you're wearing."

That's right. Of course they're not staring because of what she's wearing. They're staring because of who she is. Erin shifts in her seat and looks over to a couple sitting at the nearest table and when she makes eye contact with them; they quickly look away, both embarrassed and ashamed at being caught. Erin sits up straight and intertwines her fingers over the checkered table, "There's nothing I can do about my outfit," she inhales a deep breath and releases it seconds later, "and there's nothing I can do about who I happen to be related to, but there is something I can do about this night. This is our second date and we're going to make the most of it. Agreed?" She holds up her pinky.

Jay wraps his pinky around hers, "Agreed."

"Favorite color?"

It catches him off guard, but he answers nonetheless, "Blue. What about you?"

"I can't choose just one; I do prefer dark colors though."

Their second date felt just as easy and as casual as their first. It was filled with getting to know one another without either having to tend to their other priorities. Their phones were out of sight, they shared their favorite movies, their pet peeves, their favorite vacation spots and they were just getting into their worst dates when the waitress reappeared and sat their beverages down.

"So let me get this straight," Erin clasped her hands around the mug of her hot chocolate, "the worst date you can think of was ruined because of something you did?"

"Yeah, pretty much," he tries shrugging nonchalantly, as if he doesn't care as much as he does, "I wasn't much of a dater back then."

"Back then?" She caught on to his last words, "does that mean you are now?"

"Tell me about your worst date," he sits up and drops his straw into his glass.

She picks up on how he purposely avoids answering her question. She doesn't let it bother her though, this, whatever it is, is new, it's fresh. Erin can't expect him to change his ways overnight or in the span of a week. He's been like that for most of his life; it'll take some time for him to change it. So, instead of dwelling on his obvious discomfort, she proceeds to answer his question, "I had plenty of horrible date experiences. Would you want the worst scary date or the worst bland date?"

"I want to hear both, but start with the bland one."

"I can't even remember the guy's name to be honest, but literally from the moment we sat down in the restaurant to the moment he walked me to my car, all he talked about was my dad," she admits, bringing the mug of her hot chocolate to her lips to take a cautious sip, "it was during the campaign three years ago, before my dad won the election. He knew more about my dad than I did. And to make matters worse, after he walked me to my car, he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out an envelope which had his résumé inside. He wanted me to give my dad his résumé and put in a good word for him for a position in his staff for if he won the presidency."

"That sucks."

"Tell me about it," Erin rolled her eyes.

"And what about your scary date, was that equally just as horrifying?"

Jay's brows shot up when she answers, "It's no comparison. That guy was a creep! It was during my senior year of undergrad and I'm so fucking serious Jay, but I would not be surprised if the guy ended up arrested for necrophilia."

"Wait. What? How did you get that from one date?"

"Apparently, he assumed a first date automatically meant sex," Jay shifted uncomfortably at the thought of sex between Erin and someone else, "He had this weird fetish. He wanted me to take a cold bath before we did anything. He wanted me to put makeup on my face that was definitely paler than my complexion and then he wanted me to lie completely still in the bed. Motionless Jay, he wanted me to be still if we went that far," she shivers at the thought before taking another sip of her beverage.

That was a date story he wasn't expecting to hear. That was an experience he wouldn't want anyone to share. Jay saw her eyes on him, waiting for him to say something; he suppresses the shock and straightens his posture, "Fuck," it was all he could think of to say.

Erin snorted into her mug, taking another quick sip before she sat it down, "My sentiments exactly…I wished the guy the best and sent him on his way. He was no trouble. I waited like a whole hour before leaving the restaurant and I spent the night at my parents' house, just in case he decided to follow."

Jay didn't feel forced to respond because it was at that moment their waitress had arrived with their dinner. She nervously sat their plates down in front of them and scurried away, almost tripping over the leg of a nearby chair in her haste to get as far away as possible. Erin had reached across the table to grab the glass bottle of ketchup, "This looks great."

"I'm actually surprised you ordered what I got."

"And why is that?" She sets the bottle down after using it, "Did you assume I was going to order a salad with a glass of water?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

"I told you I'm a big foodie," she takes a hold of her burger and stretches her mouth as wide as possible to take the biggest bite imaginable, "Sorry," she set her burger down and reached for a napkin, "I'm starved."

"Don't stop on my account," Jay joins her and takes a large bite himself.

They sat there for what felt like hours, with Jay asking just as many questions as she did, to which he answered honestly and sometimes playfully depending on the topic. Laughter was mixed in with eating and storytelling and basically getting to know each other, seeing each other through a lens that the media doesn't allow. Erin dips her fry in the dollop of ketchup as Jay watches her, "How is your food?"

"Good and yours?"

"Good." They both chuckle.

The waitress reappears to collect their empty plates; she refills Jay's glass of sweet tea before departing back into the kitchen. Now as they sit with full bellies, relaxing back in their seats and taking in each other's glow, they both couldn't help but smile. She's grinning from ear to ear with her hands wrapped around her lukewarm beverage, "I meant to thank you again for the flowers. They were absolutely beautiful."

"I'm glad you liked them," he raises his glass to take a sip.

"No one has ever gotten me flowers before," and the way her tongue slowly drifts along her bottom lip has him thinking he's imagining it.

And Jay nearly choked on his iced tea because of it, "Sorry," he reaches nervously for a few napkins, patting them against the top of his buttoned-up shirt.

"There's nothing to be sorry about," Erin told him, her smile a little forced. She finishes off the remainder of her hot chocolate, gulping down the last sip of the lukewarm goodness before setting the mug down on the edge of the table. It sits there and Jay's empty glass eventually joins it, both their eyes settling on the glassware until Gracie returns, collecting the glasses and setting down their bill. Neither of the two reaches for it; they're not ready for the night to be over and by acknowledging the bill, they would undoubtedly be recognizing that this date will end.

During dinner, the bell above the door rings every once in a while signaling the entrance and the exit of the short flow of people. However, they managed to ignore it. Jay had years of experience in paying no attention to the onlookers, the flash photography and the filming. Erin, while experiencing many years in the spotlight, had her four guys to protect her, block her from unwanted attention and the flashes from strangers' cameras. Jay doesn't notice any of it. He isn't aware of the few patrons in the diner giving both of them looks, recognizing them and sneaking photos because of it. And while he doesn't appear to notice, she does.

"We've been spotted," she does everything in her power to avoid looking at them.

And Jay simply shrugs it off, "I don't care," he reaches across the table and envelopes her hands within his, "One of us will be recognized no matter where we go. It's better them than the paparazzi, right?"

She's surprised, but she nods anyway. It's only their second date and while people are watching, word of this dinner will definitely spread and he didn't seem to be bothered by it. A week ago, he had her hidden inside of a skybox in an arena and today, he had them out in the open, smiling at her, listening to every story she felt comfortable enough to tell him and overlooking the staring faces, the whispering voices and the flashes of their cameras.

His thumb ran across her wrist, pulling her attention back onto him, "I told you Erin, I'm serious about this."

And she's starting to believe it, but it doesn't mean she is as forthcoming and lenient with her heart as she wants to be. This relationship or whatever one would call it seemed to come out of nowhere. It started with him bumping into her on a sunny street in downtown D.C.; it led to a last minute date at his concert which inevitably led to this moment. Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that she needs to take her time with him. No matter what he says, how he looks or what he does, his reputation stands alone and can speak for itself.

She withdraws her hands from his grip, "What about your reputation?"

"It's time for a change."

"And I'm that change?"

"I want you to be," he admits honestly; she can see it in his eyes, "I find you interesting. I find you amazing and I actually really do want to get to know you more. Before I met you…"

"A week ago," she finds herself reminding him.

And he simply nods, implying that he heard her before picking up where he left off, "I was running late for rehearsal and to be honest after rehearsal, I probably would have done what I did plenty of times, head to a bar with Rixton and either get too drunk to where I don't remember my name or find a girl to hook up with."

"Is this really a second date conversation?"

"But since meeting you," he ignores her and continues, "and realizing that I actually want something with you, that life hasn't been as appealing as it once was before I met you, is really starting to change my perspective on things. We've either text or spoken on the phone every day since I ran into you and knowing myself that says a lot. I've never called a girl back after a hook up and for me to reach out to you, to message you and initiate conversation with you after only having a short chat with you, shows me that this has to be more. This is more."

"Okay and what about Rixton? I'm sure he's going to have a problem with this."

"Well, it's a good thing we don't need his permission."

And he's right. They're both adults and they both can make their own decisions. Neither of them should care about whether or not they have the approval of his friend and bandmate. And Jay sees the hesitance on her face, the fear that if she gives in she'll only be left with a broken heart, and he notices the creased indent on her forehead, knowing she wants to agree but she also wants the approval of the people closest to him.

"We don't need anyone's permission or acceptance," He reiterates, taking her hand in his once again, "and we also don't need to worry about anything in the future. Let's just live in the present," he raises her hand to kiss her inner wrist.

"You're right," she whispers, watching as he peppers another kiss against the inside of her wrist, "It's only a second date. It's not like we're getting married or anything."

She finds comfort in that. And from what she remembers on their last date, two of his friends were big fans of hers so she knew she'll at least have them in her corner. However, Rixton was a good friend of his and if they were to get serious, she wanted him to accept their relationship, if not for her then for him. Erin notices a bright light flash in her peripheral, "Either people aren't that great at sneaking photos or they just don't care anymore," Erin mentions to Jay.

His gentlemanly antics may have been questioned, for his fingers trailed along her arm, but when he notices her discomfort, notices how she's paying more attention to the people sneaking pictures of them than him himself, he withdraws his hand away, shifting in his seat to face them, "Hey," he calls out, startling them enough for the couple to drop their phones onto the floor, "Do you mind giving us a little privacy?" And when they scoop up their phones and turn away embarrassingly, he avows, "Thanks."

The second he turned back to face her, she smiled and grabbed his right hand to pull him to his feet and out of the booth, leading him through the rows of tables to approach the diner's countertop to pay. The bill is in her opposite hand and she focuses down on the total in order to ignore the wandering glances from the surrounding people.

Jay slides the bill from her hands, "I got it," he starts to reach into his pocket only for her to stop him and take the bill back.

"You paid for dinner last time; it's my turn."

He slides the bill out of her grip, "I got it. It's a date."

"It's a date yes, but it's not a date in the fifties," she snatches it back and quickly hands it over to the cashier before he's able to take it away again, "How about you leave the tip?"

Halstead doesn't argue with that; he simply withdraws a bill from his pocket and hands it over to the waitress as she walks pass with another person's order. She smiles her gratitude. Erin searched through her wallet and withdrew her card, "Credit please."

As she waits for her card to be swiped, she feels his arm wrap around her waist. It's a bold move. And it's an even bolder move that she didn't reject his action. Jay smiled at her, his thumb absently running along the outside of her forearm where he held her. She tapped her foot impatiently watching as the cash register deposited a receipt, "Thank you."

Before she can turn to face Jay, Atwater approaches, "Erin. I must warn you that your location was released and a few paparazzi are outside."

"I'll walk you out."

Erin smiled at that, the light of her happiness reaching her eyes, "Thank you."

"Roman and Sorensen are standing at the truck; the door is opened waiting for you," Atwater informs, leading Erin and Jay along with Dawson towards the front of the diner, "All you need to do is make it through the four or five that's out there. It's just four or five."

Just. She thinks. The term just makes it sound like a few. It makes it sound like only; it makes her feel horrible for inwardly groaning at the thought of having to make her way through four or five grown men, shouting questions, flashing cameras and microphones being shoved in her face.

"I got you," Jay assured, tightening his hold around her waist.

And when the bell rings above the door just as Atwater pushes it open, she sees the dark night full of sporadic flashes from their expensive cameras. While in Jay's arms, she felt on display but safe at the same time. Jay's hold tightened even more if that's possible; he uses his hand to create a visor over her eyes, shielding her orbs from the blinding camera light. Her name is shouted all around her; his name is called out following her name. Someone in the restaurant must have posted a photo that alerted them to their presence. The thought of a rock star and the first daughter sneaking off for dinner was too tempting of a news story for them to pass up.

Jay watched the wild paparazzi, completely unashamed of basically harassing a woman as she moves towards shelter. She's stumbling over her own two feet, regretting the heels she chose to wear. Jay pulls her in closer, squinting his eyes since his hands are currently occupied protecting her. One hand wrapped around her waist while the other remains above her eyes, protecting her vision from the cameras shoved in her face.

"Are you two dating?"

"Are you two secretly seeing each other?"

"Does your father know?"

"How long has this been going on?"

"Is this a serious thing or just for fun?"

By the time they reach the truck, Sorensen and Roman are standing at the back door, swinging it open and helping her climb inside. Knowing she was comfortably seated, he glanced over his shoulders at the bright lights and the loud questions being tossed his way, "Back off," he asserts, before seeing her wave for him to climb in. Erin had never been able to get used to the paparazzi; she was thrown into the world because of her father's role. She was forced to adapt to it even as a child yet now as an adult, it seems the adaptation didn't stick. Jay could see it. Even if he wasn't with her and was watching celebrity news, he saw how her guards protectively stood around her or he saw the look on her face as she makes her way to shelter. And now that he experienced this with her, could feel her body stiffen under his arm, could see her looking down at the ground to protect her vision until he shielded it with his hands and could see the expression on her face as she sits in the back seat, Jay didn't think he'd let a man near Erin without going through him first.

When he remains outside, ignoring her waving hand, she speaks up, "Get inside."

"Is that a good idea?" He can still hear the shutters of cameras; he didn't want to give them more of a story than they already had, especially since she didn't seem comfortable with it.

Erin eyes flew back up to his after she temporarily glanced over his shoulder, "That's an order."

Jay looked at her nearest guard to find Atwater nodding, stepping back to give them a few minutes. He climbs in and the door shuts behind him. Her guards separate and protectively stand in front of each door to ensure none of the men desperate for news stories would open one to quickly snap a photo or zoom in to snap a picture through the tinted window.

Now with a semblance of privacy, Erin slides across the leather seat and reaches for his hand, "Sorry about that back there."

"You're the last person who should be apologizing," he turns sideways to face her, leaning the side of his arm against the leather, "it's those assholes who should be apologizing."

"Thank you," she interrupts before he's able to finish his rant.

"I didn't do anything."

"You did a lot," she takes a hold of his hand, "And I want to go out with you again."

"You know I'm down."

"You leave next week."

"That just means we need to do something before I leave."

Erin scoots forward in her seat, "How about I find us a location this time?"

"Was my choice that bed?"

"…not at all. I just think it's my turn."

"Just tell me when and where."

"When are you free?"

"I won't know until I look at my schedule."

"Text me," she finds her hand wrapping around his.

"Of course," And before he's able to turn and leave, he feels her hands gliding up his arms, "I should go. The paparazzi are probably out there counting how long I've been in here."

Erin pulls away. If there's anyone who understands him when he's talking about the paparazzi, it's her. She knows they're just doing their job but she just wished they could be a little considerate. She's 26. She's human. And she's not one for having all of her personal business publicized for everyone to see and pass judgment on.

Jay turns to leave the second she pulls away. His back is to her. He's slowly reaching for the handle of the door when he feels her hand back on him, grasping his shoulder and gently urging him to turn around. And the second he does, heeding her command and confusedly giving in to eye her out of curiosity of what else she needed to say, his concern disappears the second her lips join his. It's a short and sweet kiss. She breaks it off just as soon as she initiates it.

"Goodbye," Erin once again leaned in a little closer before pressing a soft kiss against the corner of his mouth, "I just wanted to give you a goodbye kiss." It wasn't enough for him though.

The second she starts to pull away, Jay turned his head to fully capture her lips with his own, lifting his hands up to cup and caress her cheeks. Their kiss was soft, sweet and gentle; it's full of promise, potential and unspoken feelings. When she pulled back, it was only by a few inches, far enough away but near enough for the tip of their noses to touch and his forehead to lean against hers. She raises her hands and wraps them around the back of his neck, "Don't forget to text me. I can't plan a date if I don't know when you're free," her fingers are smooth as they play with the hair at the nape of his neck.

"Trust me, I won't forget."

They're forced to separate and against her better judgment she watches him slide back towards the door. The flashes of cameras and the shouts from the paparazzi fill the space of her car the second Jay knocks for Atwater to open the door. He shoots her a wink over his shoulder before he expertly hops out of the truck, trading places with Atwater and Dawson as they hop in. Erin sends them a look of gratitude and appreciation; this night wouldn't have happened if it weren't for them. Erin doesn't say much on the ride home; she spends her time on the phone, looking at her name trending on the social media app. And reluctantly clicking on her name, she sees the photos posted of their date –one of him holding her hand, one of them laughing, one of him with his arm around her waist, a few of them talking and relaxing in their seats and a few of them eating and enjoying their conversation. The pictures were out there for everyone to see, like, repost and save. And now she was nervous, sitting in the back seat of the truck, reading the comments of strangers who had their own opinions on their life and stiffening in her seat because it's definitely no going back from here.

-x-

In his line of profession, Jay had been accustomed to the wandering eyes and the obvious stares of the unfamiliar faces that recognized him. However, this is different. The eyes looking at him feel different; they don't perceive him in amazement or obsession, they look at him as if they've seen a part of him that he only reserves for a select few. In all honesty, he does though; he only allows his fans and the media to see things in favor of his bad boy reputation. And now, for whatever reason, they looked at him through a different lens.

The long looks that follow him through the lobby of the hotel until he reaches the elevator are intense. They're unblinking; they're focused on him as he desperately and impatiently waits for the elevator doors to open. Some of the stares belonged to cold and hardened eyes; orbs that shone all types of disapproval for whatever knowledge they felt privy to, they portrayed the essence of judgmental. And other stares felt hopeful, they looked as if they had fell in love or supported the idea of him and the first daughter –if that's the reason why they're staring. The looks were torn and Jay built his career over ignoring all looks, but it was something about today, having dinner with Erin that had him curious about the reactions of the world.

Before Jay has the chance to knock on Will's room door, it swings open. His fist midair in preparation of knocking only to have the act thwarted by the door flying open and Will pulling him inside, "You said you were going for a drive around the city."

And speaking of eyes and the messages they send, Jay reads his brother's orbs loud and clear; he was angry. His eyes were narrowed, rigid, cold and hard; he appeared disappointed and impatient as he waited for what his brother had to say.

"It was a long drive," Jay shrugs, tossing his brother the keys to the rental car.

Jay walks further into the hotel room to find Burgess and the band lounging around, all meeting him with various looks consisting of disapproval and anger from Rixton, envy from Mouse, betrayal from Burgess and a look of support and sympathy from Ruzek. It seems out of everyone that Adam would be the one he'll have in his corner for backing.

He sends a quick wave through the air, "Hey guys," and he knows the extent to their anger when no one responds but Ruzek. The silent treatment is the method they chose to express their displeasure. Adam, while a little upset that Jay felt the need to hide something this big from him, simply pointed his finger towards the television, showing him what they had all seen before he arrived. And when Jay turned to see what they were watching, he immediately frowned at the sight of scandalous celebrity news, with a panel of strangers discussing the pictures posted by either the patrons in the diner or the videos shared by the paparazzi of them leaving the diner.

Jay had assumed they knew better than to rely on information posted through gossip channels and sites. There was nothing serious going on between him and Erin, but according to one person's theory, they've been secretly dating for months. Jay couldn't listen to the rest of that garbage; out of anger, he stomps towards the television and shuts it off.

"I spoke to Natalie when the story broke," Will speaks up after finally calming down, "as our PR coordinator, she wants to get ahead of the story before the media has a field day with it. If we don't put you in front of a camera to answer questions, the media will have a blast filling in the blanks and answering the questions for you."

He doesn't seem bothered or disturbed by the news, but Jay does seem troubled by one thing and he doesn't hold back in voicing it, "I'll talk about my music, my band and really anything you want, except for my relationship with her. That is off limits."

"Well that kind of defeats the purpose," Will spat exasperatedly.

Rixton rises from the couch, "So you two have a relationship?" He focuses on that aspect of what Jay says, steering everyone's attention onto him.

"I honestly don't know what we have; we haven't talked about it."

"What are you doing then?"

Jay shrugs as he contemplates a safe way to answer Kenny's question, "We're just having fun. We're just getting to know each other."

"We talked about this. You're supposed to be changing your reputation," his brother chimes in.

And now it's starting to feel like a verbal attack, a gang up of people he cares about that appears to be completely against the possible of idea of this supposed relationship. It was nothing serious. Yet, here they stood, looking at him with judgmental eyes as if they knew how all of this would play out. Jay crosses his arms over his chest, cupping his elbows with his hands and leaning against the nearest wall, "It's not what you think. I'm interested in her. I want to get to know her. We're just…friends!"

"I don't hold my friends like this," Rixton asserts, flashing Jay the photo on his phone screen of him holding Erin's hand from across the table, "or like this," he swipes to show the next photo of Jay standing near the cash register with his arm around her waist.

His brother asserts himself back into the conversation with worry etched along his brow, "Jay, just please think about the band. If you do to her, the first daughter, what you did to the women before her, everything we've worked hard to build will crash and burn."

"You're not doing this," Rixton says through gritted teeth.

"What?"

"You're not getting involved with the _president's daughter_!"

"What are you talking about?" Jay was well aware of his brother's warning, yet he played dumb.

"You have that look on your face!" Will points out, "The one that says you're going to do something you know you probably shouldn't be doing!"

"I'm not going to do anything," Jay withdraws his room key; he didn't need to stay here to receive those looks or to hear their opinions on what may or may not be happening between him and Erin; if he wanted to hear that, he'll just turn back on the garbage that is celebrity news, "I'll see you guys tomorrow morning for breakfast, and Will," he waits for his brother to look over, "When is our next free day?"

"Why?"

"Just answer the question."

"Saturday," his brother sighs.

"The day before we leave," Jay whispers to himself before heading out and going directly to his room across the hall.

As the card key is inserted into the lock, he smothers a yawn behind his hand. Today had felt unnecessarily longer than it should have; today, felt like it had extended to a point beyond the normal realm of what is defined as a long day. Jay waits to hear the door shut behind him before he slides his feet along the carpet, kicking off his shoes as he trudged towards the bed.

Jay flops down onto his bed, rips off his socks and throws them across the room. He was frustrated, he was tired and he was overwhelmed and all of that was a pure understatement from where his head was at in the moment. He unbuckles his belt and tosses his pants onto the couch and his buttoned-up shirt follows suit. By the time he's under the covers, he notices his phone –now resting on the bedside table- light up and vibrates against the wood. Without even looking at the name, he already knows who it is and there is no hesitation in his movements as he lifts it up and swipes across the screen to read her message, _Is this a good idea? –EV_

 _If you're talking about our third date, then of course it is, -JH_

Her message came instantly, almost as if it was already typed out before he sent his, _I'm watching celebrity news and so many rumors are coming out, good and bad. People are posting things on social media, pictures of us at the diner have been shared more times than I can count and we're getting tagged in them, -EV_

 _Who cares what they have to say? –JH_

 _People are placing bets on how long our supposed relationship is going to last, -EV_

 _You didn't care about what they said before, don't care about what they say now, -JH_

 _Most think you won't be able to stay faithful for too long; a tiger can't change his stripes and all that bullshit is what they're saying, -EV_

 _Screw them, -JH_

It was no secret that Jay didn't care about the headlines, but Erin grew up differently than him, she grew up in a household led by a mother that prided herself on maintaining a good appearance. While her father didn't care much about what anyone said about him, her mother did, especially when the election is next year and his opponents would use any minor thing against him. That's when Erin cared about what was said of her the most. She didn't want for her deeds to affect her father.

 _That's easier for you to say. You're not put on a pedestal. Your father doesn't run a country. Your reputation doesn't affect someone else, -EV_

 _You're right, -JH_

 _I'm not upset, at least not with you, I'm just worried. I feel like my mom is going to text or call me any second now, either that or my dad's campaign manager…or worse, my dad himself, -EV_

 _It was just a second date, tell them that, -JH_

 _I don't want to undermine it, especially because we're planning a third, -EV_

Jay smiled at that and brushed his fingers against the keys to type out his next reply, _just take a deep breath, relax and get some sleep. This'll all be old news by next Saturday, which just so happens to be when I'm available, -JH_

 _A day before you leave, -EV_

 _Unfortunately, yes, -JH_

 _I hope you're right. I hate being the center of attention, -EV_

 _Get some sleep. I'll call you tomorrow to see if shits hit the fan on your end, -JH_

His message pulls a smile to her face and he senses it. His message lightens the mood enough for both of them to fall peacefully asleep.


	4. Great Falls Park

Erin groaned as she rolled over for what felt like the tenth time, punching the pillow she'd been sleeping on with the side of her fist in hopes that it'll make a difference. It didn't. She flipped the pillow towards the cool side to see if that would work. It didn't. She grabbed a few of the many pillows around her to see if swapping it with the one she was currently resting on would work; it didn't. She wasn't going to be able to sleep in today no matter how hard she tried. Her mind was flooded by too many thoughts for her to get a semblance of sleep. That day, two weeks ago when she slept in until the afternoon felt like a figment of her imagination; that feeling of being well-rested seemed so long ago, seemed so foreign and distant from her current state.

The alarm clock on her night stand read seven forty-two am. Erin sighed, reaching past the device to turn on her bedside lamp in order to illuminate her poorly lit bedroom. Her eyes fell on her phone as it sat charging on the bedside table. She paused for a second, floating her hand above it, before grabbing it and scrolling towards her texting conversation with Jay. She hesitated for a moment, debating over whether or not to message him before saying screw it and firing off a text, _I can't sleep, -EV_

Jay's response had been almost instant; _Is thinking about me keeping you up? -JH_

His cocky attitude was back. Erin read his message a few times, debating over what to say before she hit call on her phone. Even though she was going to see him later today, she wanted to hear his voice now. She stifled a yawn and pressed her cell against her ear as she patiently waited.

"Good morning beautiful," Jay answered before the first ring had been completed.

Erin beams, "Good morning."

"I'm not complaining or anything," his coarse voice appeared to be filled with exhaustion caused by his early morning wake up call, "far from it actually, but to what do I owe the pleasure of this phone call? We've never spoken on the phone before noon."

"I needed the comfort of good conversation," she snuggled beneath her comforter, pressing her cell against her ear, "You seem to always be able to provide it."

"Well you've come to the right place…the right person actually."

A long silence befalls them, their ears only filled with the heavy breathing on both ends. She's waiting for him to say something and he's waiting for the same thing. When neither takes the hint to speak, he sighs, running his hand over his face to try and wipe away the frustration, "Is it that bad?" Jay didn't give her a chance to answer before he kept on, "I thought you said your parents didn't say anything."

"And that's what concerns me," she admitted a bit sheepishly, "I haven't spoken to my mom since the rumors about us started coming out and that was a week ago. We both have our own lives and we don't talk every day because of how busy we are, but if my mom knew, she would find the time to call and question me; my dad too. He um…he, actually probably would have taken me to some undisclosed location and refuse to release me until I gave him answers; I just wished they said something."

"Erin…"

She continued on, not even bothering to acknowledge the possibility of what he had to say, "I'm pretty positive they know, I mean, how would they not know? My mom knows when I skip breakfast so how would she not know about this?"

"Erin…" his laugh was a little bitter as he attempts to call out to her again.

"It's freaking me out. My brother hasn't even text me about it."

"Erin…"

"I mean, my brother texts me about everything Jay! And I mean absolutely everything! But, he hasn't spoken to me about this! And I don't want to bring it up because what if he truly doesn't know and then he'll know!" It seems his comment has released a waterfall rush of emotions.

"Erin…" he attempts again.

"Maybe this was a mistake?" She sits up in bed, "Maybe this is a sign that whatever's starting to develop between us shouldn't happen? Maybe we should just cancel our date?"

"ERIN…"

She blinks out of whatever haze she was in, "Yes."

"This isn't a mistake. That's not a sign. And we're not cancelling anything. Okay?"

Erin is hesitant to respond. She's cautious about giving in. She's uncertain about agreeing. And she knows he's waiting for an answer but she finds it hard to give him one. Her family was one of the main reasons Erin was currently single or had never managed to go on more than one date with the same person, -not counting two past boyfriends. Jay didn't know her parents; he didn't know her brother. Erin was too precious to them; she was the one to hang with the wrong crowd as a kid, experiment with drugs and alcohol in her youth and then overcame all of that. She was able to overcome her past, further her education and become a successful attorney. And because of that, there weren't many people the Voights' trusted their precious daughter with, and that most likely included him –a known bad boy.

Now though, as she's sitting in bed with the phone pressed to her ear, listening in silently to his ragged breathing, she's well aware that he's waiting; he's patiently –and nervously- waiting for an answer. She looks over at her reflection in the mirror adjacent to her bed; she appears well-rested but she knows that's a lie, that's a false reflection trying to appease her worried thoughts. And instead of dragging out the silence longer, she voices her concern, "I don't know what's happening between us because it's all happening so fast, but what if this is all for nothing? You said that by our third date, today I should add, that our relationship, whatever the hell it is, will be old news. It's not. Every single time I left my house this past week since it came out, that's all anyone can ask me about; it's all the paparazzi question me on. Jay, your fans, people who probably don't even know who I am, try to approach me, yell at me out of some jealous fan-crazed fit and feel the need to question me on who I'm sleeping with, on who I'm _sleeping_ with Jay! We've only been on two dates. Is whatever we have going on worth all of that?"

"Your week hasn't been the greatest since the news came out, but I'm willing to bet mine was worst," he shot back, "my own brother and my bandmates have been giving me the silent treatment since they found out; they only speak to me if it has to do with work. Rixton feels like I ditched him and the stupid pact we made. And Burgess and Mouse apparently say I lied by omission and they're pissed off, especially considering what they think of you. So, yeah you got it bad, but I got it bad too and I'm still trying here, I still want to try this out."

Erin sat stunned in silence for a second, "Jay," she hesitates as she searches her vocabulary for the right words to say, "I'm sorry."

"I didn't tell you that to get your sympathy."

"I know," Erin pulls back her duvet and slips out of bed, "and you're right. I don't want this to end. I don't want to cancel our date. I just," she keeps the phone pressed against her ear as she drags her feet out of her bedroom, "I just panicked. I'm not used to this kind of attention. I grew up in the spotlight but my mom had a way of protecting us from negative publicity. I like to keep a low profile, well as low of a profile as the daughter of the president can keep but I prefer to stay to myself. I have few friends, and they all live miles away in Chicago. But," she finally takes a calming breath, "you're right."

"Now, did I succeed in comforting you?"

A breathy laugh escapes her body as she drags her bare feet into the dark kitchen. Her hand hits the light switch, blinding her temporarily when the room is illuminated by the mini pendant lights hanging above the kitchen island. She grabs the remote sitting atop her counter and uses it to switch on the light of her ceiling fan. Erin withdraws the phone from her ear and places him on speaker as she opens the dishwasher and responds, "You actually did comfort me. You eased my concerns, which says a lot," she affirmed, rummaging through her dishwasher for her favorite coffee mug, "On a much lighter subject, how was your concert last night?"

"Same old, same old," he shrugs it off.

Erin prepares herself a cup of coffee; it's what she'll need in order to get through the day. She wraps both of her hands around the warm beverage and carefully brings it to her lips, "I bet the atmosphere was amazing. The crowd, the music, the dancing, everything; I bet it all was so incredible."

"You should come to my next concert."

"Are you talking about the one two days from now, the one in New Orleans?"

"I sure am," he confidently responds, "And to make it worth your while, you won't even have to be in a skybox. I'll put you front row and center."

She draws in a sip of her hot beverage, "I really want to come."

"…then come."

"I can't," she leans her arms against the island in her kitchen; her condo was absolutely too quiet but his voice added some semblance of company, "I already took off from work enough and besides, I have a meeting that day and I have to meet with a client afterwards."

"We'll just have to video chat," he drawled.

She snickers into her mug, "Don't make it sound so bad. It'll be different…and temporary, I hope. And by the time we see each other again, the media will probably have moved on."

"I'll be thinking about you while I'm on stage."

"I have no doubt in my mind that you will."

Jay rolls over to his other side, relieving the right side of his body from holding down all his weight. The phone remains to his ear; it's the one thing that doesn't move as he readjusts his position into a spot that's more comfortable. Jay runs his free hand down his abdomen before scratching just below his abs, "I have a question about tonight."

"I'm listening."

"Since you won't tell me where we're going, what should I wear?"

"Go for comfy."

"And where am I meeting you?"

She shakes her head, forgetting that he is unable to see her, "You're not meeting me anywhere. I'm going to pick you up from your hotel."

"You're going to pick me up?"

"Well, technically my guys will be picking you up, but I'll be in the backseat. You'll need to text me the address to your hotel and stay near your phone. I should be picking you up around three."

He sits up in bed, "I'll be ready, but I must say at least wait until I'm in the truck before you start attacking my face. You wouldn't want to give the paparazzi another story now, would you?"

"Oh please," she chuckled; her cup of coffee now forgotten as she sits comfortably on the island stool and engages in his playful banter, "you kiss me just as much! And don't act like you don't like it, but if you want me to stop, I'll regrettably give in."

"Hey now, I said nothing about stopping. I'm just looking out for you."

"You don't have to worry about me kissing you in public."

"You'll end up kissing me in public."

"I doubt it."

And before she has a chance to listen to his response, her posture straightens and her shoulders stiffen. She hears her front door open and the voice of her mother carries through. Erin cuts him off without a second thought, "I have to go. My mom just walked in; I'll call you when we're on our way to pick you up. Do not forget to send me the address to your hotel." She hangs up just in time as her mother walks further into the condo, fingers typing along her cell screen.

"Good morning sweetheart, do you know if the small restaurant down the street delivers?"

"I'm not sure," her words are spacey. She's confused. Her mother had just walked into her condo after a whole week of not seeing her. She's speaking as if nothing has changed.

Camille doesn't pick up on her daughter's confused expression. She simply continues on, pecks a small kiss against her daughter's forehead and dials the number of the restaurant, "It's worth a shot. I skipped breakfast at home because I figured we could eat together, especially since you always seem to skip the most important meal of the day."

"I was going to eat."

Her mother crossed her arms in disbelief, "When?"

"I'm an adult. You don't need to worry about me anymore."

She could tell her mother was ready to respond but when someone picked up on the other end of the phone, it distracted her. She used that opportunity to finish the remainder of her lukewarm coffee as her mother put in a breakfast order that was definitely too much food for two people. When she hangs up the call, Erin is already in the kitchen, setting her used mug in the sink before opening up her dishwasher. She knew her mother; she knew she was going to try and come back to their last conversation, but Erin managed to talk before she could, "I haven't spoken to Justin, how is he?"

"We've dedicated this past week to cleaning up his apartment," Camille asserts, sliding onto a bar stool, "I can honestly say now that I can walk inside without tripping over anything."

So, that explains it. Her mother and brother haven't reached out because they were busy with operation clean Justin's apartment. It had been three years in the making. Her mother was a neat freak; she felt everything had a place so to see how her brother grew up the complete opposite was interesting. Her brother's apartment nearly gave her a hernia the first time her mother saw it.

"I swear sweetheart," Camille kicks off her high heels and leans onto the island, "I think he gets that from your father. I walked into his place and was so close to walking back out. I swear he comes home, kicks off his shoes and clothes, eats and leaves it all out. It accumulated. And if you see his apartment now, I would say that has to be my greatest accomplishment."

"Thanks mom," Erin chuckled.

Atwater carries their food into the apartment pretty soon afterwards. Apparently, when the restaurant got the address, they realized who it belonged to and rushed the order. They didn't have to wait too long. And since her mother ordered so much, she called for her guys to come in and make a plate before carrying their plates back out to their post. Erin and Camille make their plates and carry them into her contemporary style dining room. The décor of her dining room was delicately and beautifully decorated by her mother. It happened to be Camille's favorite room and she spent time in here whenever she could. The wall on the far right was made up by wall to wall windows, overlooking the city. The white glass table was a four-seater with a bouquet of white lilies –another batch sent from Jay a few days ago- sitting in a white, bud vase.

There are contemporary style paintings decorating the cream colored walls of her dining room. This room was the furthest from her but since the remainder of the house reflected her; she could let this one pass. As they take a seat, carefully being mindful not to drop any food on her cream hardwood floor, conversation picks right back up, but this time Camille initiates the topic. It had been quiet for too long and when her mother starts talking, it surprises her, especially with the subject of conversation she chooses, "So Erin, have you," she pauses, struggling to find the best words, "well, are you seeing anyone? You know, when are you going to start dating again?"

Erin almost choked on her food. She should have known this was coming, instead, she found comfort in a false sense of security and understanding her mother provided. Camille had obviously seen the news, by the raised brow and knowing smirk she offers her daughter, but she doesn't mention any reports or rumors.

"Mom," she fell silent for a few seconds in order to swallow her food.

"You used to tell me everything Erin."

"That's when I was like ten."

Camille uses her fork to pick around her food, staring down at her full plate as she responds, "I had to find out from the paparazzi that my daughter was dating a known rock star."

"We're not dating," Erin corrects.

She looks up to meet her daughter's gaze, "I saw the pictures."

"We're just getting to know each other."

"I had to find out from strangers."

Erin drops her fork onto her plate, "If you had known about half the dates I've gone on then you would grow bored."

"This is more serious though," Camille attempts to explain, "I saw the pictures. I saw the holding hands, the smiles and I saw the looks. You're serious about him."

"I've only known him for two weeks."

"It was his concert that you went to go see."

"It was our first date," she says hesitantly, trying to gauge her mother's reaction.

And Camille simply raised her brows, "How come you didn't tell us?"

"I didn't know how you would react."

"I will admit I was pretty upset," Camille gives her shoulders a shrug and rolls her eyes dramatically, "a little disappointed, more so because you chose to keep this a secret from me. I was a little hurt because I thought my daughter would give me the courtesy of knowing major aspects of her life, at least before the media finds out."

The two resume eating their breakfast. An overwhelming silence and a bit of tension resting in the room, encompassing them until their bodies stiffened by discomfort. Her daughter's love life was never the easiest thing to talk about, for either of them. The clinking of their forks against their plates appears to be the loudest sound imaginable, creating an even edgier feel to the air, one that is broken eventually by Erin, "And what about dad," she huffs.

Camille keeps her eyes focused on her plate, "He thinks it's a phase you're going through."

"And that" Erin asserts, pointing her fork towards her mother, "is exactly why I didn't tell him."

"You know your father wants what's best for you," Camille defended.

"His idea of what's best for me is a cop, a doctor, a politician or a lawyer. Jay isn't his idea of what's best for me."

"We just don't want you to get hurt," Camille snapped.

"Jay and I talked about this. I won't."

"Why? Is it because he gave you his word?" Her mother's head tilted mockingly to the side.

"It's because I looked into his eyes as he gave me his word. It's because I trust him."

"I had my assistant look him up. Erin, his past is-"

"in the past!" Erin grows frustrated, stabbing her pancakes with her fork before biting it off with her teeth, "Mom, you've always told me to be more concerned about someone's character rather than their reputation. YOU told me that your character is who you are and your reputation is what others think of you. You always said that things come together and happen for a reason; you've always told me to follow my gut."

"Not if that gut instinct is going to leave you with a broken heart."

Erin stands to her feet, gives her mother a lingering glance of anger before snatching her plate up. She'll just finish her meal at the kitchen island. She walks to the threshold of the dining room door and throws one last glance over her shoulder, "I'm going out with Jay again today whether you both like it or not."

"A third date…this must be serious."

She completely turns around to face her mother, "And if the paparazzi finds out, there will be pictures. I'm just warning you."

"Pictures of what exactly?"

"Hand holding, cuddling, I don't know, you just need to know there might be pictures."

"Please remember your father is up for reelection next November."

"If that's your way of telling me to behave myself, it's been noted," Erin salutes, backing out of the room before begrudgingly dragging her feet to the kitchen. She drops her plate down on the island and climbs onto the bar stool; her feet dangle freely as she lifts her fork and continues to eat. Resting her elbow on the island and her chin in her opened hand, she sighs and picks through her meal, growing tired and full with each bite she takes.

"I didn't come here to argue," in her peripheral, she sees her mom set her plate down beside her.

"You just came here to snoop," Erin drops her fork onto her empty plate, "Did you decide to come over after talking to Justin first and realizing he knows just as much as you do about my love life or did you come over because the media didn't give you all the answers?"

"I came over because we haven't spoken," Camille clarifies, climbing onto the bar stool.

"I was giving you space."

"Why?"

"Because I knew you knew about me and Jay. I wanted to let this settle."

Camille sighs, running her fingers through her straight hair, "I'll eventually come around; you know I always do, but I just want to make sure you're not making a mistake."

"I really like him mom." Erin turns in her seat to face her, "He's nothing like how the media portrays him. He's nothing like that."

Camille drops her fork onto her empty plate and lifts the dish to set it on top of her daughter's plate. She crosses one leg over the other and turns in her seat to face Erin; they're sitting high upon the bar stools, knee to knee and Camille reaches out to grab her daughter's hands, "You're an adult and I'll always support whatever you decide, just tell that friend of yours that if he breaks your heart, I'll break him."

Erin smiles; it's the first genuine one she offers since her mother's arrival, "Isn't that a warning dad is supposed to say?"

"I'm afraid your father is not pleased at all with the release of your dating life," Camille leans forward to slide her hand down the side of her daughter's face, "He's avoided all questions concerning it, but know that since its release, I had to hear an ear full from him every night before bed, the few occasions we got to have lunch together this week and on the phone when I was on my way over here this morning."

Erin didn't know what to say to that, "I'm sorry," she offers out the apology.

"That's nothing to apologize for," Camille pats her daughter's cheek, "Hopefully, he'll come around, if not, Jay may have a little more to worry about than a bad reputation."

"With you and Justin on my side, we'll easily convince him."

"Me, yes. Justin," she hesitates.

"Why?"

"You know your brother. Since you were a teenager getting tied up with Annie and Charlie, and then the Nadia thing, he got a bit more protective. He's scared it's going to be another Charlie incident."

Erin pulls away from her mother and hops down off the stool. She walks barefoot around the island and slides the plates into her hands. She never brought up guys or dates or even men she had a crush on because she knew her past would be brought up. And her family continued to wonder why they weren't the first to find out when she went out on a date. Erin rinses the plates off, taking the faucet of the sink and aiming it towards every crumb and drop of syrup; her foot taps erratically just as she starts to speak, "Charlie was a criminal; he's been to prison. He's gotten involved with drugs. Jay is nothing like that. Jay is the opposite of that!"

"Justin just doesn't want the next broken heart Jay leaves behind to be yours and I can understand his concern about that."

"I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself."

"I have no doubt in my mind about that," Camille eases herself off the stool, "but just please be careful and please be mindful of the paparazzi. If you're in public, even if you can't see them, just assume they're watching. The last thing I need is to hear about a picture of you being released to the public that shows you in a not so favorable light."

"Yes ma'am."

Camille approaches the sink and wraps an arm around her daughter's waist, "If you wear any less clothes, you'll practically be naked."

"I'm wearing shorts and a t-shirt."

"The t-shirt is tight and doesn't fall pass your belly button and your shorts are just as tight and barely covers your thighs."

Erin places the plates into the dishwasher, "It's not like I'm going outside like this. I'm in the comfort of my apartment," she shuts the dishwasher but doesn't start it –not until she has enough dishes inside to fill it, "and don't you have somewhere to be soon?"

"You're right; I do have to go," Camille leans over to press a kiss to her daughter's cheek, "I have a charity auction to get to today. I would invite you but I know you have a date."

Erin smiles and rolls her eyes; she heads over to grab the containers of leftover food and neatly places them in her full fridge. It had been fully stocked by her mother two weeks ago. Camille stood near the door, adjusting the heels on her feet as a slight ache started to flare up through the calluses of her feet. Her feet needed a break from heels, but unfortunately, that break won't be today. As she twists the knob to open the door, she hesitates when she hears her daughter call out, "Thanks mom,"

Camille looks over her shoulder, "For what?"

"For making this as painless as possible," she whispers, appearing at the end of the hallway.

Camille straightens her posture and stands tall at the door. No words are said; no words are needed. Erin just stands at one end of the long hallway leading to her mother; her bare feet comfortably cushioned by the white carpet as she takes a step towards her, "I love you."

"I love you too sweetheart," Camille backs out of the room, waving for her guards standing in the hallway of her daughter's floor to follow her towards the elevator.

-x-

At a quarter to three, Jay found himself pacing the lobby of the hotel. It was obvious how nervous he was from the way his hands are tucked into his pockets and how he gnaws down on the inside of his cheek. He always found himself nervous right before a date with her. When they're communicating on the phone or through social media he's always confident, cocky and bold but when he's about to see her in person, the nerves always arise and they remain until she calms him. Jay ignored the staring eyes and the curious and judgmental expressions crossing the face of the staff members and the other guests staying at the hotel. Jay was fully aware of the amount of attention he attracted, and while he was famous for his own career, he knew that most of the looks came from the realization that he had been going out with the first daughter.

He continued pacing…

Most of everybody had their separate opinions of him, their own opinions of Erin and now everyone was starting to form their own opinions of them together. His bandmates assumed he was staying inside for the day while they ventured out for one last excursion in the nation's capital. It didn't bother him that they left him behind; he was content and unbeknownst to them, he had a date with a special lady today.

And that special lady was changing him and he honestly didn't know how he felt about that. A night or two ago he had been up thinking about himself; he had been torn between changing and wanting to stay the same, wanting to remain in the comfort of his identity. His identity kept him from a broken heart and managed to skyrocket his music career. He couldn't just leave it behind, not even for her. He wanted her, he really did, but not at the expense of losing himself. Jay had calmed her nerves only to increase his; he had simmered her doubts only to grow his own. He was being indecisive, one second he was pledging how much he's serious about their potential relationship and the next he's standing in the middle of a hotel lobby debating over just saying forget the whole thing and going back to his room. If they get serious, he's bound to break her heart; that's just who he is. Over the last few days his brother had only spoken to him when it was work related or to see if he changed his mind about seeing Erin; he hadn't. But, as he stands in the lobby his brother's words start to sink in: just remain friends with her, don't date her and let her know you don't want to take things too fast.

As he presses his thumbs against his eyebrows, running them across the strands of hair stressfully, he's caught off guard when a woman appears across the lobby. She's smiling flirtatiously at him and when he gives her a polite grin in return, she walks over, "Hi." No other words were spoken as she takes his hand and slips a folded sheet of paper inside. Temptation; he was constantly being tested to see if changing himself is really what he wants to do. She said nothing else, gave him nothing but her number scribbled across the torn sheet of paper. He knows he should give it back, he knows he shouldn't accept it; he knows, he really does, but he finds himself stuffing it inside of his pocket.

When the time continued to near three in the afternoon, he made up his mind and decided to take his nervous pacing outside. And fortunately for him, he didn't have to wait long. Once he started to notice the lingering looks from individuals who most likely didn't listen to his music and have only recognized him because of the rumors spreading about his love life, a familiar black Chevrolet suburban pulled up in front of the hotel. Within seconds, he recognized Atwater's bulky form climb out of the backseat in order to block the prying views of the public from seeing inside the truck. Atwater gives him a look over as he approaches, "I'm going to need you to spread your arms and legs," Jay obliges and is thoroughly pat down, "You're free to go in," her guard steps to the side to allow him to enter.

Jay took a deep, soothing breath before approaching and climbing into the back seat. Atwater stepped in afterwards, shutting and locking the door behind him. His eyes hadn't even been given a chance to adjust to the dim lighting in the back seat of the truck when she spoke, "Hi."

He whipped his head up and met her eyes. He noticed that the interior of the car did not appear to be the standard; there weren't rows of seats, instead, the back seats appeared to be in the shape of a square and she currently sat directly across from him, facing him. His eyes raked over her form, taking in her appearance from head to toe. Her brunette hair was in two tight French braids; she wore a fitted gray sweatshirt with her college alma mater and black yoga pants. Her gray and black athletic shoes were flat against the floor; she leaned forward, resting her elbows upon her knees to focus her attention on him, urging him with her eyes to look back up.

When he eventually did look back up, he zeroed in on her lips currently tugged up into a suggestive smirk. She had caught him eyeing her. And she didn't have a problem with it at all.

"How do I look?"

This moment grows even more awkward when he remembers they're not alone. It's not just him and her; two of her guards were up front and the other two were in the back with them. Everything he did, they saw and everything he would say, they would hear. He had to choose his words carefully. And with that in mind, he responds, "You look beautiful."

"You're certainly a charmer," she chuckles, unbuckling her seatbelt.

This earns the attention of her guards and before Roman could protest, she maneuvers from her seat over towards Jay; she flopped down next to him and buckled herself back in. She didn't utter another word as her hand slides off her lap and onto his in order to intertwine her fingers with his. She could hear him swallow; his throat was dry. She could see how nervous he was around her and it was cute, but she noticed his eyes focusing more on Atwater and Roman sitting across from them than her –his own date. She's relaxed in her seat, studying him carefully. She continued to look unaffected by his presence, which did kind of bother him, but he remembered that most of the women he flattered weren't the daughter of one of the most powerful people in the world. She wasn't nervous. She wasn't intimidated. She was confident in herself. The only time he saw any type of uncertainty came from the pressures her position put her in that could be affected by their potential relationship.

"I know I freaked out earlier today," she decides to settle what she assumes he's worrying about; unbeknownst to her, he's more concerned with the fact that her guards –the men she sees as family- is sitting inches away, watching them, silently, "but I want you to know that I'm just as serious about this as you are. I talked to my mom and-"

That seems to pull him in, "Wait. What?"

"Remember my mom stopped by, it's why I rushed you off the phone? Well, we had breakfast and she basically gave me, well us, her approval."

"Can we talk about this," he lowered his voice, "later?"

She didn't know what to say to that, so instead, she changed the subject.

"I hope you're hungry," she points towards the picnic basket sitting atop of Roman's lap, "we're going on a picnic date at Great Falls Park."

"I'm starved," he smirks, patting his stomach.

"Great," she clasped her hands together excitedly.

"I didn't know you could cook."

Erin bites her lip embarrassingly as she shakes her head, "I hate to disappoint you, but I can't cook. I ordered sandwiches from this amazing deli down the street from my place," Jay laughs.

"So tell me about this place –Grand Falls Park, you said?"

"Yeah," Erin perks up; her earlier embarrassment long gone and replaced with a burst of excitement, "it's a park in Virginia; it's half an hour from downtown D.C. I've only been once and that was back when I was a little girl and my dad was a state senator. He had business to do in D.C. and my mother brought me and my brother there for some peace and quiet. And all I can remember is falling in love with the rapids. It has such beautiful sights. I've been intending to go back, but I've never had the time."

Jay glanced down at his own outfit; he could have dressed down a little more, but his khaki pants, red plaid button-up shirt and red tennis shoes would have to do. He looked up just as they were entering the park, Erin was handing Atwater the cash to pass to Dawson to pay for parking before sliding to the end of the seat and glancing out of the window with a childlike excitement.

"Alright guys," it's the first time since he bumped into Erin two weeks ago that he hears Sorensen speak, "we're going to park the truck, canvas the area that you two choose to set up your picnic at and we'll try to stay out of your way. It'll be like we're not even there."

"I doubt that," Jay mutters; his voice low enough that no one picks up on his remark.

Erin had been used to their directions; Jay wasn't. It would take some time for him to remember that because her father is the president their dates had to be supervised. Erin seemed to be used to it though. Once the car was parked, he was waiting for permission to leave the truck while she hopped out without giving her guards a second glance. She rushed around to his side and opened the door for him, "Shouldn't I be the one opening the door for you?"

She smiles as she helps him out, "This isn't the fifties," she chuckles, leaning into the truck to take the basket Roman held out for her, "Thanks Sean," she shuts the door.

Holding the handle of the basket in one hand, she offered the other to Jay. He smiled and glanced around the parking lot; it was filled with at least three or four other cars. Not wanting to keep her waiting any longer, he entwined his hand with hers and followed as she led the way. They walked along a trail and waved at a few staring faces from families and groups that recognized them. Erin eventually led him off the defined course, and started pulling him behind her, being mindful of the roots in the ground and the sticks hanging off the trees.

"I called up here yesterday and usually they don't allow spots to be reserved since it's a public park and it's maintained by taxpayers' dollars and all of that, but I have a method of persuasion," she gives his hand a gentle tug, "and usually I don't name drop, but look at this place. It was so worth it," she releases his hand just as they enter an open field. And as Jay takes in the fresh air, the open space and the warm breeze, he realizes just how right she is; this place is beautiful.

Jay watches her cross the field. The ends of her two French braids are blowing in the wind. He felt his throat constrict at just how beautiful she looked dressed comfortably. And he didn't deserve her. She was worthy of someone that was just as into all of this as she is. He watched her approach the edge, maintaining a safe distance from the rapids. She set the basket down and pulled out the folded blanket. Erin spreads the blanket out before crawling on top of it. She waves for him to come over, "What are you thinking about?"

He grinned, "I was just taking in the scenery." The lie fell easily from his lips.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"

His eyes are on her as he answers, "Stunning."

And she notices.

Just as she starts to pull the water bottles, the bags of chips and the sandwiches out of the basket, he climbs onto the blanket. They're isolated, or at least, it appears that way, but in reality, he knows her guards are watching and guarding the area. Erin crosses her legs, and faces the water, watching the hard currents splash against the large sharp rocks, "I haven't eaten since breakfast so I'm starving. I hope you like turkey," she extends the wrapped deli sandwich towards him.

He takes it, "I actually love it."

Jay sits next to her, crisscrossing his legs and setting the sandwich down on his lap. He opens the wrapper of his sandwich and lifts the sub to take a bite, "This is good."

"Didn't your mother teach you to chew with your mouth closed?" Erin chuckles.

She reached across the blanket and took one of his hands into hers. Jay looked down, surprised by the contact. And instead of focusing on the grin on her face, he zeroes in on her ring and how her birthstone glistens under the sunlight. His shoulders stiffen when he remembers that her guards are watching; they're probably passing judgment as they stand guard somewhere in the forest. He stares down at her hand in his; her nails had been painted maroon and in contrast with her pale complexion, it brought out every defined line, freckle and smooth patch of skin.

"Jay," she whispers his name, drawing his attention to her face, "are you okay? You've been acting weird. Are you having second thoughts?"

"I…uh, I'm fine," he stuttered; he appeared to be nervous and used his free hand to rub the back of his neck, "We should talk later though."

"You're not regretting this, are you?"

He felt bad; he dropped his head and sighed, "Not at all."

In order to prove it, he gives her a flirtatious wink of the eye before lifting his sandwich with his free hand to take another bite. She didn't fall for it though. She saw right through it. And by the raise of her eyebrow, he knew she wasn't going to drop it.

"In the car back there, you shut down on me. You tried to act normal, but I could tell something was bothering you. You looked uncomfortable," she slowly slides her hand out of his, "you still look uncomfortable. If you're not having second thoughts about us then what's the problem? Is it your brother and your bandmates? Is it work? What is it?"

"It's them," his hand waves around the scenery. That much was the truth, maybe not the whole truth, but it wasn't a total lie. He did have a problem with her guards standing watch though.

And she's puzzled. She glances around and sees no one. She takes another bite of her sandwich before clearing her throat, "Who's them Jay?"

"Your guards, your guys, whatever you call them."

Her head tilts; she's utterly confused, "What about them?"

"It's awkward. Do you always go on dates with them watching?"

Erin looks over her shoulder; she doesn't seem them anywhere but she knows they're watching. Fortunately, she knows with their distance, the sounds of the currents crashing and the waterfalls running, they're unable to hear this conversation, "Yeah, I do actually, well since my dad became the vice president years ago. I guess I've gotten used to them, sometimes I forget they're even here."

"On our previous dates, I knew they were present but they were out of sight, but back in the car, they were right there and you were holding my hand and being all…you and I wanted to reciprocate but I just kept seeing them watching us," he attempted to explain and just like she's done many times before, she reaches for his hand, "I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to apologize for," her thumb rubbed gently over his knuckles, "it takes some getting used to. I knew them for years. I was assigned them when my dad first became vice president almost 11 years ago…so I had some time to become accustomed to their company. We know how each other operates, but it's not as suffocating as it may seem, I get plenty of space. It's just when we venture outside my home is when it appears I don't."

Jay accepts that. If he had to deal with them in order to hang out with her, then he'll happily –and a bit begrudgingly- get over it. He had tightened his hold around her hand and moved himself closer; she smiled, knowing that her words broke through that wall he temporarily put up. They resumed eating their late lunch while looking out at the water and listening in to the peaceful sounds of the waterfalls and the currents.

-x-

Jay glanced over to where Erin was now stretched out beside him; both their bellies satisfyingly full. It was an obvious distance between their bodies; it was one that he wanted to close but kept open solely for the reason of maintaining respect. Erin rolled over onto her side and scoots closer towards him, "This is nice," she whispers; his hand comes to wrap around her and rest against her back. She snuggled further into his open arms, tucking her head against the crook of his neck.

He rubbed a gentle hand across her back, "If only we can stay like this."

"Who says we can't?"

"Your career, my career, your parents, my brother," he begins to list.

She felt his hand slide down her back, drift over towards her hand and intertwine with her fingers before bringing her hand to his lips to kiss gently. As his lips lingered against her, she sighed, taking in this moment for all it's worth. She's never had a date like this. One that is quiet, peaceful and romantic; Erin feels him pull slightly back, only to bring her in for an actual kiss.

Their hands remain touching; he's anchoring her to him so there's no space left between their bodies. Once he's satisfied with the closed distance between them, he releases her hand. He maneuvered his left arm to the side, so it's firmly planted beside her head, supporting his weight so as not to crush her, but allowed his right to roam liberally up and down the left side of her body. She moaned into the kiss; it's the first time he's heard such a sound emit from her and he loves it. Erin arched into each of his touches, bringing her own arms up to wrap around his neck, affectionately clinging herself to him. His hand glided down over her collarbone, the simplest of touches along the outside of her breast, before running down her waist and then her thigh, hitching it considerably higher over his hip. He was making out with her, out in the open, where anyone could possibly stumble across and see.

She could feel the kiss intensify just by the way his tongue moved against hers, how his hand trailed around her thigh to grip her behind and how she flushed her body against his. It was definitely not a kiss made for the public but neither of them cared at the moment.

His lips smiled against hers the second her hands unravel from around his neck in order to grasp his face. She falls back; he hovers above her. She urges his lips harder against hers; the control of the kiss is in her hands. He's willing to go as far as she will lead him. She moaned into the kiss again as his hands outlined the contour of her body, tracing every curve with a much needed passion as he flushed his body further against her. Her own arm is draped around him, hand sliding down the muscle in his back as she flushes herself upwards to meet his body. The kiss was slow and gentle, promising in ways that no amount of words could ever be. His hand now rested beside her head, propping him above her while his other hand –his thumb- caressed her skin. Their breaths continued to blend together as she trailed her fingers up and down his spine, incessantly pulling him closer so there's no space left. Their bodies so close they could feel each other's hearts beating against their chests.

Eventually, they had to pull away slowly, lips lingering against the other smoothly before drawing further and further away. They had to pull away out of concern that they'll lose themselves in the moment. They breathe, allowing time to tick by to collect their thoughts. He remains hovering above her, his fingers delicately brushing against the few strands sticking out of her French braids. A rush fills her neck and cheeks; her one hand slides down his face while the other circles around from his back. She's out of breath and so is he, but neither care. Their lungs are on fire, clenching onto every breath of oxygen inhaled. The smiles on their faces indicate just how good being out of breath feels.

His lips lightly brush hers. He drew away seconds later, before peppering another kiss against her again.

Jay rolls over onto his back; his arms bend and his hands come to rest behind his head, smiling up at the sun as it soaks them in. In his peripheral, he could see her looking at him, eyeing him up and down with the smile her lips could muster. She's happy. She's content. She scoots closer and lays her head upon his shoulder and wraps her arms around his waist, "I'm glad you asked me out," her fingers trailed down the buttons of his plaid shirt, "I can't remember the last time I went on a third date with anyone."

He presses his lips against her forehead, "And hopefully with the way things are going, you won't have to go on a third date ever again."

"Is that your way of asking me out again?"

His body stiffens beneath her head, "How about we take it one day at a time?"

She angles her head up to look at his face, "What does that mean?"

Now is the best time as any to express to her his inner turmoil, the struggle and how torn he feels in wanting to see where they lead but also to remain true to his former self and keep his distance and maybe just remain friends. This was the window he needed to express that, yet he doesn't. Instead, he takes the easy way out; he responds in a manner that guarantees him the best of both worlds.

"We should just take things slow," he whispered as her head rested back on his chest, "let's just be friends who get to know each other that kissed every so often."

"Is that the status you want our relationship to be?"

He's grateful she isn't looking at him; he's grateful that her head continues to lie on his chest so he doesn't have to actually look into her eyes while turning her down, "Yeah. We're friends, who go out on the occasional date or two-"

"Or three," she interjects.

"Yeah, but let's not limit ourselves. Let's not be exclusive."

This was obviously his way of letting her know that he still wanted to see other people; he couldn't exactly hang up his bad boy tendencies for a girl he met two weeks ago. He wasn't ready for that. He definitely wasn't ready to commit to one person no matter how much he likes her. Because the truth was, he liked her _a lot_ , definitely more than he's ever liked anyone, but he was afraid, scared to commit and actually devote himself to just one person.

"If that's really what you want…" he's grateful that she doesn't argue or try to convince him otherwise; she accepts it, whether she likes it or not.

"It's just," and for some reason, even though she accepts it without question, he still felt the need to explain, "I haven't been in a committed relationship in years. It's been too long of a time."

"I haven't either. I've had the occasional hookup," this takes him by surprise but he doesn't verbally acknowledge it, "but I haven't been in an actual relationship since college."

"I'm glad you understand. Let's just see where this all takes us. We'll stay friends, but we can do whatever we want with who we want."

And gosh he sounds like an asshole. He sounds like the guy he's been for years, the one who speaks from the one area that shouldn't dictate or control his decisions. He's not speaking from the heart or the brain; he's speaking from the organ that has undoubtedly been neglected since he ran into her that day outside of the coffee shop.

Her head nods against his chest as the two resume soaking in the sun. Their bellies full, they're comfortably rested on the picnic blanket, the grass beneath the blanket cushioning their backs and the falls of the water, how the splashes ripped against the rocks and the way the currents moved down the stream created the perfect essence, the perfect atmosphere that settled their racing hearts. Erin snuggles further into his chest, inhaling the aromatic scent of his cologne, "I didn't realize how good you smell. Whatever this scent is, keep on buying it."

"You like it?"

"I love it," she whispers, nuzzling her nose into the fabric of his shirt. She draws away and sits up, crisscrossing her legs and intertwining her hands over her lap, "I can't believe it's taken me so long to come back to this place. This place is absolutely breathtaking," she breathes in the fresh air, listens to the sounds of nature and scans her eyes over her surroundings, before she sees it, "There's a tire swing Jay," she eagerly pats his shoulder while sporting a mile-wide smile.

Jay sat up and looked over in the direction she was pointing. There was a rope swing, hanging from a tree and attached to a black, car tire. The sun was starting to go down but they had time. And in all honesty, he would do just about anything to bring that smile back onto her face.

He gestured toward the swing, "Do you want to-"

"Definitely," she jumps to her feet.

Erin took off towards the swing before he could register that she even answered his question. He saw her secret service men, finally appearing, watching, talking to each other in their ear pierces, radioing in to each other that Phoenix –Erin's secret service codename- is on the move. They keep their distance, but they keep their eyes trained on her, confused as to the location of her destination. As Jay saw the innocence in her eyes, the childlike enthusiasm in her movements and heard the joy in her expression, he couldn't help but wonder about her life. Has she ever had a chance to do the simple things in life?

He hopped to his feet, "Erin, slow down!" Jay called out, but she ignored him.

By the time he reached her, she was already sitting on the tire swing, holding her hands around the rope while her feet remained planted firmly on the dirt ground.

"Can you give me a push?"

He wrapped his hand around the rope, "Let me make sure these ropes are sturdy."

"Hey," she gently placed her hand over his, "I don't need you to protect me. That's what those guys are for," she nods towards her guards as they attempt to discreetly watch her.

To appease himself, he still checked the ropes and the tree bark. He couldn't have the first daughter getting injured on her third date with him. That wouldn't be a good look.

Once the tire swing passed the test, Jay pulled the swing back until her toes were barely brushing against the ground, and then pushed off. He gave her a push over and over again until her swinging legs kept up the momentum. Focusing in on her angelic laugh, he realized that nothing else mattered in this moment but them.

The two of them were no longer in the secluded section of the park she reserved for them. They were no longer covered by the protection of trees and isolation. They were near the trail, the pathway that is open to all visitors. And while normally Jay would assume the sights were the most interesting and appealing, he found that as people walked along the trail and captured pictures, a few of them had been of him and Erin. Some people thought they were more discreet and wouldn't get caught but that wasn't the case; he saw them, he just didn't say anything because Erin was his main focus.

"Halstead," he hears his last named called out.

He ignored it.

Erin's laughter, her swinging form and her bright smile kept him distracted.

"Halstead, can we get your autograph?"

A few people –ranging from teenagers at least 16 years old to adults- ran over, cameras in hand as many of them searched their belongings for a pen and something for him to write on.

"I'm kind of busy," he attempted to let them down gently.

He maneuvered behind Erin and started to give her another push the second he saw her slowing down. She was going to end her fun to stand at his side while he appeases the group of fans. And normally he would, if he was with any other person, he wouldn't have hesitated to drop what he was doing to focus on them, but this was different. She wasn't just some random person. She was special, she was different and she was worth all of his attention and more.

"Can we take a photo with you?"

"I'm busy at the moment."

Erin's swinging had eventually come to an end. She nodded for him to stop pushing her and she gave him another nod, granting him permission to appease his fans. Jay had given in –only for her. When the swing had slowed down enough, she hopped out and walked over, excusing herself through the group of people –she realized must have been here on a field trip- in order to approach Jay's side. The teenagers couldn't care less, but the adults seemed fascinated by both of their companies. Erin had noticed her guards were in appearance, no longer hiding because of the rush of crowd that surrounded the first daughter.

"Are you Erin Voight?"

"I am," she answers with a kind smile. She was a little annoyed; this was supposed to be a date.

"I voted for your dad. Can we take a picture with you?"

"Sure."

"Here, I'll take it," Jay holds his hand out for the teacher's camera.

The first daughter had wished she'd worn something a bit more appropriate, but she deserves a pass since she's technically at a park, enjoying the outside. Erin wrapped her arm around both of the teacher's waists and smiled for the camera. He captured a few photos before handing the camera back, "Thank you!" The teacher was overly chipper.

"Can you sign ours?" A few of the remaining students walked over, extending their notebooks and pens towards Jay, "I'm Miranda. Can you put Halstead hearts Miranda?"

Jay has his arm wrapped around Erin's waist. It happens without either of them noticing. Her waist was like a magnet drawing his arm in. And once it settled, he noticed the looks of the students on the field trip and their teachers. He said nothing though; he didn't want to freak Erin out for their somewhat display of affection.

He takes the pen from Miranda, "How about I put I love my biggest fan?"

"Yeah, that'll be perfect," Miranda nodded eagerly.

His arm remained wrapped around Erin's waist while he used his free hand to sign off as many autographs as the joints in his fingers would allow. After he signed the last notebook, he tugged her closer and started backing them away towards the trail. Some of the students followed, enthusiastically holding out their cell phones, "Can we have a picture with you too?"

"Sorry guys," Jay waves, leading Erin away, "I'm busy at the moment."

"It'll just be a second!"

"…maybe next time," he offers, knowing the chances was slim to none, but right now, they were cutting into his time alone with Erin. He had to leave tomorrow and he wanted every second he had left in D.C. to be with her.

Call him selfish or ungrateful but he's been in the music business for years and he has never turned down a request for a photo or an autograph. He had always put the fans first, even if he was on a date –or in his case, a hookup. He would stop what he was doing to appease his fans, but this was different. He saw the disappointed looks on their faces but he continued to tug Erin closer, leading her towards the path.

His hand trails off her waist in order to capture her hand, "Alone at last."

"You know you could have taken photos with them. I wouldn't have minded."

His fingers intertwined with hers, "Nah, we're on a date remember."

"They're your fans; I would have understood. And besides, we're just friends, remember?"

He pulls her against him to press his lips against her forehead, "It's no big deal. I just got my priorities in order right now."

That's sweet. She lifts her arm to wrap around his waist, drawing him into her. She notices in her peripheral that her guards are watching. Dawson is holding her folded blanket and picnic basket; he had packed it up for her. The three guards watch but keep their distance as Antonio goes to put the basket and blanket away in the truck. They remain far, but safe.

"You know," she averts her eyes from her guards to Jay, "they snuck some pictures of us?"

Erin shrugs, "My parents know. My brother knows. I'm not concerned about the media anymore, as long as my family is in the loop. And I warned my mother that pictures will probably be taken of us so there should be no more surprises for her."

"I know we're friends, but did your mom give us her approval?"

Erin shook her head, "Not in those exact words, but that's basically what she meant."

"And what about your dad?"

She unraveled her palm from his and brought her arm up to loop through his; instead of the more intimate hand holding they've become accustomed to doing, she settled on a more friendly touch.

She leans into him as they continue to walk down the pathway, "Since we're unofficially official, we're not at the point where we need my parents' approval."

A smile curls up at his lips, "Is that your kind way of telling me that your father doesn't approve of our little tryst?"

"A tryst," Erin takes in his word choice, "is that what we're calling it?"

"I don't know what we're calling it."

She unloops her arm from his, "Well, once you do, be sure to let me know."

Erin gives him a kind smile; it's one that reassures him that she isn't upset by him calling their relationship a tryst, a simple rendezvous between lovers. Erin's two braids remain tightly interwoven into her scalp and he watches the wind cause the bottom of her braids to blow towards the right as she walks up to the edge to get a full view of the sights.

When she ran her hand over the old and worn wood of the rail and looked out into the water, her eyes bright and filled with comfort and ease; this was one of her favorite places to be yet this was only her second time visiting. Her eyes cast towards the skyline as he approaches her, "To be honest, I don't know what to call us besides friends," he wraps his arms around her waist from behind "Why do we even need a label right now anyway? Why rush things? I'm enjoying what we have going on. And besides, you and I both know that I don't have the best track record when it comes to relationships. Once it's labelled, there's so much that comes along with that and I'm not ready for it yet."

Erin is completely fine with that, especially since he's leaving tomorrow and she doesn't know when he'll return. And she knows he's right –his track record shows he's not good with relationships at all. Erin looked back at him, her smile easy and resting naturally on her face, "I think you make a good point," she turns to focus back on the view, taking it all in, "the ball is in your court though. I'm okay with whatever you decide. Just don't string me along. Don't lead me to think that there's potential between us when there really isn't."

"You have my word," he leans forward and relaxes his chin against her shoulder.

They remained standing there for a moment, content with watching the sunset, feeling the light breeze blow through their hair and listening to the tweeting birds as they flew across the water. Erin leaned into him, humming out a peaceful melody that warmed his heart. Music was his thing; it was his passion, his escape and his career, to hear her voice whirr a low note that blends in with the sounds of Mother Nature has him grinning from ear to ear.

"I wish you didn't have to leave tomorrow," his lips came to brush against her temple and she sighs in his warm embrace, "I don't have many friends. My closest friends live in Chicago. And I just have my family here, and don't get me wrong they're great, but it's nice to have someone else to talk to and hang out with. I can't exactly share things with my parents that I can share with you."

"Hmm," he hums to acknowledge he's listening to her as he pecks the lightest of kisses down the side of her face.

Ern's sharp intake of breath as he kissed her pulse point just at the crook of her neck sends a rush through his body. He needed to stop. They both knew it. And just as soon as he started kissing her, he stopped and she turns around in his arms. Her hands wrap around his upper arms and she looks up to smile at him, "For someone who wants to remain friends, you sure like kissing me."

"Don't act like you don't enjoy it."

"I do," she admits, "but I also enjoy putting labels on relationships."

"I see your point," his hands intertwine behind her back.

"Why call this a date if it doesn't have the potential to be more? If we're not dating then we're hanging out and friends don't kiss, at least not like how you were kissing me. I've done the friends with benefits thing and if that's what this is then call it that."

"Erin…"

"You want to have your cake and eat it too."

His head tilted, "Is that so bad?"

"We're going to be great friends Jay," she purposely avoided answering his question; Erin rises to the tip of her toes to lightly press a kiss against the corner of his mouth, "great _platonic_ friends," her hands moved away from his arms to rest against his chest, "at least until you're ready to start using labels. The park is closing soon, we should go."

Jay watched her pull out of his arms; he watched her walk around him, he felt her give him a friendly pat on the back. He observed her as she walked away and he knew she was right. Even though he didn't think he could maintain a monogamous relationship, he knew that he wanted to continue whatever they started. It was going to be hard, but she was worth it.

"Erin, wait up!" He jogs to catch up with her, being mindful of the loose branches, the roots in the ground and the thorns of bushes pricking against his clothes, he moves with ease, "I call it a date because this is a date, our third one to be more precise," he watched her stop just up ahead, a few inches from the truck, "and I'm not ready for this date to end just yet."

Erin's features softened, "It doesn't have to," she remains standing, facing the truck; he's forced to stare into the back of her head, "I'm pretty sure your hotel room is the worse place for me to go considering your band, your manager and the hundreds of people in the area, but my place is a little more private. You can come over, that is if you want."

-x-

A long distance relationship, it's one of inconvenience. It's full of emotion and longing for someone who is miles away. Both of you have feelings for each other and are connected to one another emotionally, but physically, you're in two different places with two different area codes and possibly two different time zones. Physical intimacy and contact is minimal and barely existent. If you want to have a long distance relationship, there comes a time where you have to deal with insecurities, jealousies and several fits of doubts and suspicions every once in a while.

That's the sole reason why Erin and Jay try to reach an understanding before walking inside of her high-rise condo; unfortunately, it's hard to conclude on one. The two of them had talked about it in length during the entire car ride over; they discussed it in the elevator and even at the door as Erin unlocked it. They wanted two different things; he wanted her but without any sort of commitment and she wanted the opposite. He says he's serious about them but he's not ready for an exclusive relationship. What does that even mean? And like she said earlier, she's had the friends with benefits relationship before -it worked until it didn't- and she had only ever broke it off because she started a committed relationship. If it was still going on, she wouldn't be coming close to breaking it off for good if she wasn't starting a potential relationship, if she had no reason.

Since closing the door on her guards, leaving them at their posts in the hall, a foreboding silence surrounded them. This whole complicated idea involving their supposed relationship held too many layers. Jay had to fly out to New Orleans, Louisiana tomorrow and they had no idea when they would see each other again. Why tie yourself down to someone you may not see again? All of these racing emotions made their inevitable separation needle against her with more sharpness than she's ever felt before, and for the first time since they met, she struggled to think of how she would bear it.

Erin had led him into her bedroom, shutting the door behind her to give them privacy. She saw him take a glance around the large space; taking in the expanse of her bedroom from the king-sized bed, to the balcony doors leading to a balcony that overlooks the city. He didn't have much time to look around because she offered him a seat on her bed. She was too nervous to sit next to him, even when he pats the spot beside him, she shook her head. He reached for her hand, pulling her towards him and she stands between his opened legs, "What's wrong?"

"How is it possible for me to miss you when I've only known you for two weeks?" She steps away, "Am I crazy? I must be crazy. We can't even decide on what we want out of this relationship," and she begins pacing the length of her room, "I couldn't sleep last night because I kept tossing and turning and thinking about you. And it's not just whatever this is between us," she gestured with her hand at the space between them before she continued pacing, "it's everything else. I have fun when I'm with you. I laugh. I smile. I'm free to be myself. You're like the only friend I have here. I've had so much fun in these two weeks than I've had in a long time. And you're leaving, you're flying thousands of miles away tomorrow morning. And I guess," she finally flopped down next to him heavily on the bed, "I don't want to lose whatever this is, whether it's friendship or an actual relationship, I don't want to lose it."

"I understand," he assured her, lacing his hand with one of hers, "these last two weeks have been amazing. And just because I'm leaving doesn't mean we can't continue messaging and calling each other. I'll probably call you so much that you'll want to change your number," he nudged her shoulder playfully, "We won't make any serious commitment to each other. We'll see how the distance treats us and in two weeks I have a three day weekend, maybe I can fly out here."

She shifts in her bed, turning to face him, "You would do that."

"Like I've said on all of our previous dates, I'm serious about this."

His words, the truth within them causes her to pull away. It's like their relationship –or whatever this is- is a pull; they can't seem to be on the same page. When she wants something more, he doesn't, and the same can be said vice versa. For him, it's out of fear of breaking her heart; it's out of the foundation of commitment issues he's created for himself over the years. For her, it's out of a fear that a long term relationship could never work; he not only travels for work but he lives states away. How could this ever work out?

"No serious commitment," she repeated his earlier words, rising from her bed to slowly walk around the large bedroom, "Does that mean we can do this," she points between the two of them, "with other people? Define no serious commitment to me."

He stands, "We're not committed to each other and we can do this," he points between them, "with whomever we want." If she's being honest, that hurts. He's basically pushing her away so he can continue hooking up with every woman that throws herself at him.

"We kiss, we hold hands, we stay in contact but there's no expectation, no labels and for all intents and purposes no commitment."

"Exactly," he grins.

Even though this wasn't like her, she needed to be okay with it. She wanted him. She wanted more with him, but she didn't want to admit it on the day before he's supposed to leave for work. For him to say that he was serious about them –is the way of someone with commitment issues- to stake their claim. It may not be all she wants but she'll have to be okay with it. She can't force him. They had the potential for more and he knew it. It wasn't enough time between them now to talk about it. He had to leave soon.

His cell vibrates, "That's probably my brother calling," he shrugs it off, "he either wants to know where I am, when I'll be back or to go over the itinerary for tomorrow. Traveling is stressful, traveling for work, even more so."

"So I guess this is goodbye," she rocks on her feet, her eyes avoid meeting his out of fear that he'll be able to read what she's too afraid to say.

"I thought we talked about this; it's not goodbye, it's see you later."

She doesn't voice it, but she appears not to believe it. She knows guys –at least the ones she's familiar with- and she knows they'll say what they think she wants to hear. Actions do speak louder than words, and she couldn't make herself believe him no matter how hard she wanted to.

And he saw that. He knew it. He could tell by the look on her face. And he didn't like it.

He slowly, but surely closed the two steps between them and held her face with his hands, a seamless move to capture her lips with his. He crosses the room in less than a second, his hands leaving her face to slide down and grip her upper arms; she wanted this just as much as he did, she enjoyed the teasing bites, the tongue battles and the occasional taste that leaves him a moment to catch his breath.

She could feel the stubble of his facial hair scratch against the side of her face as his lips pressed the roughest of kisses against her flesh. She moaned. He subsequently grunted as he pushed their bodies backwards into her bedroom door. Whilst pressed against the door, he kissed her hard, battling her tongue until she's left breathless and winded. It's a kiss full of promise; it provides a guarantee to her, one that ensures he is going to keep his word. He'll try to visit as soon as he can; he'll try to get back to her, to figure this complicated relationship out.

As he rips his mouth away from her, his gaze moved from her eyes and back towards her lips, and once more, without any semblance of control, his soft lips were against hers again. His right hand found comfort against the side of her head while the other wrapped around her thin waist. Each intake of breath was another reminder of all that was truly happening, his cologne, and the way his hands roamed her body, pressing his lips against hers with a more urgent pace, a more desperate need and a more lustful want.

Jay was forced to pull away; one for the need of oxygen and another when his cell phone starts to vibrate in his pocket once more. He makes no move towards it. Ignoring its buzz, Jay steps back, taking in her flushed face as she remains leaning against her bedroom door, "I should really be going."

"You should," she agrees.

Yet, he doesn't move an inch. He doesn't provide any inclination that he's actually going to leave.

Instead, Jay pulls her into a friendly hug and Erin held on like she never wanted to let go, burying her face into the crook of his neck, "I'm going to miss this."

"Yeah," he whispers, pressing the gentlest of kisses against the top of her head, "Same." Erin allowed herself to be wrapped up in his warmth and his strong presence. She felt her breathing shallow as her blood began to hum just under her skin. His phone vibrates again; he really needs to leave, but his feet remain standing in the same spot.

"I'll get one of the guys to give you a ride back to your hotel."

He nods, "Alright, but can it be Dawson, I'm not too sure the other guys like me much."

A noise fell out of her mouth that resembled a laugh. The joy in his words reached her eyes. She chuckled; she laughed from within, the feeling building in the pit of her stomach as it erupts. It's music to his ears, a melody that has him already wishing he didn't have to leave.

"They just have to warm up to you. They're a little protective."

Jay doesn't argue that, "That may be true, but I still want Dawson."

"Dawson it is then."

He slowly withdraws his arms from around her, and the smile on her face slowly lowers at the lack of contact. He's taking in her features; he rubs his thumb across her bottom lip as his eyes take in everything about her, trying to draw her out in his head to remember every single detail while he's away. Jay feels her lips kiss the print of his thumb and he grins, "Keep yourself safe, Erin, for me please."

"I'm always safe," he gives her a look and she gives in, "but of course."

"I'll see you in two weeks."

"Two weeks."


	5. Reality Check

The rain beats against the pavement outside, thunder rumbles throughout the city of DC, the wind is howling through the streets and lightning illuminates the inside of her condo every couple of minutes. This time of year always brought such heavy storms, with the whole idea of April showers bringing May flowers. As she watches from the warm and dry comfort of her condo, she finds herself feeling grateful that she didn't have to go out into that mess. She worked from home today, going over case briefs, getting into contact with the lawyers of the defendants and scheduling meetings with current and potential clients.

It's late. If it wasn't for the moonlight and the line of streetlights gracing the streets, she wouldn't be able to see anything outside the window. With a warm mug of hot chocolate held in both hands, she stands barefoot in black and white plaid pajama shorts and a black tank top. Her hair rested over her shoulder in a messy side ponytail. She was the absolute essence of comfortable and cozy. Her toes curled into the white carpet as she looked pass her reflection in the window to watch as people on the streets below ran for cover as the speed of the rain increased.

Erin took another small sip of her lukewarm beverage just as knocking lightly rapped against her front door. She wasn't expecting company. And normally after three knocks and an announcement of his name, her nightshift guard would just walk in. It obviously wasn't him. And that meant she had a visitor and her plans of snuggling up on the couch to watch a good movie was over. She drew away from the window when the knocks continued, "Who is it?"

"It's me," and suddenly by the sound of that familiar voice providing a not so clear cut answer had her excited. She set her mug onto the end table and crossed the living room.

"Come in," she stands at the end of the hallway as the front door opens.

Capp gives her a wave before stepping aside to allow Kelly Severide, one of her closest friends, to enter her condo. Behind him, he wheeled inside a suitcase and she found herself even more excited than before; he was most likely going to be staying for a few days and with her nonetheless. Eventually the front door shuts as he shrugs out of his rain jacket and the second his umbrella is leant against the wall and his jacket is hung on the coat rack, she's crossing the space, finding her feet moving at a fast pace to close in the distance. She ran, jumping into his arms the second she's close enough, and out of instinct, his hands hold her by the thighs, in support of her weight being propped up and held against him.

Erin's in his arms; her legs are wrapped around his torso, and they're hugging each other with all of the affection that two longtime friends could muster. His nails dug into the bare skin of her thighs holding her up while carrying her back into the living room of her condo. Severide could feel her head resting against his shoulder, arms wrapped around him and her hold was tight, "I missed you, apparently more than I thought I did."

Kelly grinned at her admission, "I knew there had to be a reason you haven't pulled out of my arms yet," he could feel her head draw back to look into his eyes; face to face, at a perfect eye-level since she's carried in his embrace and Kelly takes it upon himself to close in the short distance, brushing his lips against hers, "I missed you too."

Her lips are unmoving as she appears frozen in the moment. She hesitates in the kiss. Her mouth is unresponsive to the working motion of his. And soon enough, he picks up on it and draws away, "Hey, what's wrong?"

She unravels herself from his hold to stand back onto her own feet, "Nothing…I just," she rubs the back of her hand against her forehead, "I didn't expect you to kiss me."

"I'm sorry Erin; I…I guess I just got caught up in the moment."

As two longtime friends who had met during their freshman year of college, their relationship didn't start out as strong as it was now. At the time, she was the vice president's little angel and America's sweetheart wasn't as innocent as she appeared to be, especially in undergrad. Kelly had seen through the act she presented. She showcased herself in a way that her parents and the prospective voters would be proud of while harboring her true self away from the public eye. Kelly Severide had called her out on it; he was a man who didn't vote for her dad's party; he voted for the opposition, but by the time they truly got to know each other, seeing her for who she really was, she had won him over and by reelection, they were both in line, casting their vote for the party her father was running under. Kelly was the closest person she had to a best friend; he was someone who called her out on her crap and besides Nadia, he knew absolutely everything about her. And when Nadia passed away, Kelly had become a constant in her life, someone she saw as a part of her permanent existence.

Severide was like a brother to her, which is why the kiss had caught her completely off guard. Her relationship with him reminded her of the one she had with Justin. He was the family she created for herself, a member of her life that she had chosen. And that's why the kiss had taken her by surprise; it's why she didn't kiss him back. But, by the look on his face, she could tell he was telling the truth; it wasn't intentional. He had been excited about something and was just expressing that happiness through a simple kiss. It was strictly platonic on both sides but it could be mistaken for more if one of them felt something for the other. Their friendship came first; it came before disagreements, both big and small. He had become her rock; he was someone she needed in her life, especially after Nadia died.

And like stated many times before, their friendship came first. _Always_. They've been through too much together to allow this accidental kiss to get in the way. They've been friends for far too long and neither wanted to lose the relationship they've built since freshman year of college, ten years ago. Even though she didn't use the term, for all intents and purposes, Kelly was the closest thing she had to a best friend. And even though he still lives in Chicago while she lives in DC, they make sure to see each other at least twice a year.

"I haven't seen you in months." It appears that the kiss is forgotten. Erin doesn't spend much time dwelling on it since she's so happy to actually have one of her closest friends here with her.

"Well, I came to tell you the good news."

Her brows furrow, "You flew all the way from Chicago to tell me news."

"That's not the only reason."

"Well, don't leave a girl waiting," she's practically bursting in anticipation, "What is it?"

"I won the election. I'm the mayor of Chicago!"

Erin throws her arms around his broad shoulders, "Congratulations," she squeezes him tight, "I am so proud of you Severide," she admits, pulling away to look at him in amazement, "I knew you were going to win. How could you not? And when I worked under your campaign when I visited Chicago a few months ago, I knew there was no way for you to lose. The platform you ran on, the connections you made in the community; if you didn't win it would have been their loss. I just can't actually believe you're the mayor. I thought being a firefighter was your calling as you so eloquently put it a few months after graduation."

"It was," Kelly nods, "I've been a firefighter for years but since Casey became Alderman, I wanted to step up too."

"I'm really proud of you Severide."

"Thank you," his voice becomes gruff; he's loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt, stepping towards her with every clear intention written across his face. He didn't just come to share his good news; he came for something else too.

"Did you come to celebrate?" She already knew the answer but it didn't stop her from asking.

"That's part of the reason I'm here," he replies, tossing his tie over onto the back of the couch, "I came for a conference and I'll be here for two days. I figured I could stay with you."

"You know you don't have to ask." She watches as he discards his shirt, leaving him standing in his dress slacks and a white t-shirt.

"My luggage is back there," he added, nodding his head towards her hallway, "I'll get it when we're done." His hands go straight to his pocket, pulling out his cell phone.

"Done what?"

Now it's obvious she's playing dumb. She knows exactly what.

"Celebrating my big win," Severide quipped; his voice was low and rushed, especially as he quickly dialed a number into his phone, "and since we can't go out to celebrate, I'll have to bring it here. Do you still get your daily intake of nutrients through delivery?"

"Of course," she answered just as he pressed the phone against his ear, "And don't forget extra spring rolls!"

"Always," he smirked.

Erin chuckles as he walks off with the phone to his ear. It was their normal celebratory routine. If one of them had great news, they celebrated it with massive amounts of fast food from all sorts of restaurants, alcohol and a great movie. The next day was either filled with them lying in a food coma or crunching out as many calories as healthily possible at the gym.

-x-

The bar is occupied with one too many people holding all sorts of irrelevant conversations. The crowd is mostly filled with people around his age, some a few years older and not many are a few years younger. It's the night before their concert in New Orleans, and like many times in the past, Halstead and Rixton find themselves tossing back glasses and glasses of alcohol as girls practically throw themselves at them, flirting, caressing and constantly trying to one up the competition. Rixton enjoyed every second of it and normally Jay would too, but for some reason, tonight, he wasn't interested. Instead, he found himself consistently checking his phone.

"Seriously," the cell phone in Jay's hand was snatched out of his hold, "there's no time for that, instead how about you have a drink, my treat," Rixton pockets his friend's phone.

Erin hasn't text him in the last couple of days and while he hasn't initiated a text with her either, it felt like something was off. Maybe cooling things down with her wasn't for the best. But, at the same time, maybe if he gave things a shot it wouldn't be either. He didn't know; he was torn. And before his drink is refilled by the bartender, he brushes the hands of every woman off of him to turn in his seat to face Rixton, "What if everyone is right? What if you're right?"

"I most likely am, but right about what?" Rixton lifts his scotch and tips it towards his bandmate.

"Things not working out between me and Erin," Jay stares down at his refilled glass of scotch; his fingers idly trace along the underside of the wooden bar top.

"Are you still hung up over that girl?"

"…no…yes…kind of," he admits.

Rixton tosses back the rest of his scotch, gritting his teeth as the liquor burned his throat, "Ah, that's delicious," he grinned, wrapping his free arm around the waist of the nearest woman, "but Jay, come on dude, seriously, you've been on what, three dates with this girl, I mean what's gotten into you, you've never been like this before, she must be one crazy broad in the sack."

"That's not it."

"What?"

"We haven't slept together."

This surprises Rixton and it's clear by the rise of his brows, "So you went on three dates with this chick and got nothing in return?"

"Gosh, is that how I talk? Do I say shit like that?"

"Like what?"

"What you're saying, do I talk like that? Do I refer to women as chicks and broads? Do I talk about them like they're nothing but a piece of meat?" Jay gulped down his scotch to loosen his shoulders up a bit, "I know I sleep around but do I talk about them like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like I'm a fucking douchebag, an asshole, a jerk," he lists off, leaning back a bit and narrowing his eyes in skepticism, "Do I talk about them like that?"

Their concert was tomorrow night, or if you want to be technical, tonight since it's a little after midnight, and while the majority of their bandmates were back at the hotel getting a full night's rest, here he was with Rixton drinking their hearts out while in the company of women who definitely deserved better. Kenny came for the alcohol and the girls; Jay had come because he couldn't sleep. He needed to take his mind off of her, off of the one person who he had recently met that he started to feel was changing everything. They weren't in a relationship; she owed him nothing, yet he sat most of the time in this bar waiting for a text from her. This wasn't what he had in mind when he asked for no expectations, no labels and most importantly no commitment. That's what held him back the most; this idea of commitment, it was something he wasn't particularly familiar with, it was something he didn't know he could do.

"Look man," for once Rixton sounds serious; a note of compassion actually flashes across his features, "relationships aren't supposed to last. People fall out of love, people cheat, people die and people leave; relationships are meant to end."

Those weren't the words he wanted to hear. That wasn't the advice he wanted from one of his oldest friends. Jay reached over and snatched his cell from his friend's pocket; he checks it and he's not surprised when he sees she still hasn't sent him a text. Maybe Jay should initiate it. He opens his phone and brushes his fingers across the touchscreen, _Hey –JH_

It's late; he knows she has to work tomorrow so he doesn't expect a response anytime soon. Jay pockets his cell and twirls his finger in the air to indicate that he wants another refill.

"Maybe you need something stronger," Rixton shoves a glass of some clear type of liquor towards him, but Jay simply shoves it back; he doesn't want it.

"I don't want to drink too much. Will is going to kill me if I show up with another hangover."

"Since when did we care what your brother thought?" Rixton laughed, downing the shot himself.

"And that's the problem," Jay snapped, eyes glazing over and staring down at the wooden bar top, "we need to start caring about his opinion, about our reputation, about everything because maybe if I did, I wouldn't be like this. I wouldn't be afraid to commit."

"Oh, here we go…" Kenny rolled his eyes.

Jay clenched his fists, "And what's that supposed to mean?"

"You're not afraid to pursue a relationship; you're just afraid to pursue a relationship with _her_." There was an obvious hint of malice when Kenny Rixton said the last word, but Jay ignored it.

Halstead chose to overlook it for the sake of finishing their earlier conversation, the topic of his commitment issues. And when the bartender notices the pained expression across his face, she refills his glass and he nods his thanks before turning back to Rixton.

He took a deep breath before speaking, "The last thing I want to do is hurt her."

"…then don't pursue this," Rixton hops off the bar stool, "Listen to me Jay, you screw her over, you'll just end up screwing us. She's not worth it. Go after someone else's daughter."

"It's not about her dad."

"That's the problem; it damn well should be."

"Why? I'm not dating her father."

"You're not dating her either," Rixton snapped; he leaves the woman behind to close in the space between him and his friend, "Look, Jay, we've been friends for years. I know you. We're too similar. You may think you want a relationship but we all know you get bored and once you get bored, you start to look for fun elsewhere if you know what I mean."

Jay couldn't look at him because he was right. Rixton was completely right.

"And that's what I'm afraid of."

"So drop it then," he squeezed his friend's shoulder reassuringly, "She's in D.C. surrounded by arrogant men in suits and you're in New Orleans surrounded by all of these beautiful women," Rixton waves over a few women and takes a step back to allow them to circle in on his friend, "Take advantage of the night my friend and forget about her. Just leave Miss. Goody-Two Shoes to the bankers, the businessmen, the lawyers and the politicians. Leave her to the men of her world because I hate to break it to you Jay, but you're both a part of two completely different realities. If you didn't accidentally spill coffee on her then you would have never met her. It's not meant to be and she's not worth losing everything we built."

Halstead sits, mulling over his conversation with Kenny. He could feel his friend's eyes piercing into the side of his face as he waits for a response. His friend was right. Jay had only met her a few weeks ago and he was already not recognizing himself. He missed her. And that was the reason he shouldn't pursue this. He wasn't the type of guy to miss a girl, especially one he just met and technically had no relations with; he wasn't recognizing himself at all. And that scared him.

"You're right," he stated in the affirmative.

"And that's what I love to hear," Rixton pats his friend on the back as he waves for the bartender to bring them another round, "We only get one life, so how about we enjoy it."

Another round of drinks appears in front of them. And Jay felt a heavy weight in the pocket of his leather jacket. He grabs his glass with one hand and reaches into his pocket with the other, pulling out a bunch of ripped up, crinkled and folded pieces of paper, containing a variety of names and numbers of the many women who they've come across through the night. Rixton noticed too and if the grin was any indication of his mood and thoughts, he was extremely proud.

"I see the lady here has been patiently waiting the entire night for your attention," Kenny exclaimed, waving the stranger over, "if you need me, I'll be with the one over there," he nods towards the pool table, "Have fun!"

And just like that Rixton is gone and his former spot is replaced by a brunette woman, a woman whose hair reminded him of Erin's the day they had met. Jay had looked into her eyes; they were the same shade as Erin's, but maybe a tad bit darker, but not too noticeable. She didn't have her dimples though or her beauty mark. She didn't have her voice either. Out of everyone here, she was the closest resemblance to the woman who had plagued his thoughts all day. And if he couldn't have Erin, maybe he could have her. Without a second to waste, Jay tossed a tip onto the bar, grabbed the woman's hand and pulled her along.

-x-

Erin peeled open her heavy, lidded eyes but the sunlight bursting through the wall to wall windows forced them closed. Kelly must have drawn open the curtains when he had woken up this morning. She had passed out at some point in the middle of their third movie. It was some sports drama that Severide had picked out. She sat up and spotted the blanket and pillow he had used folded up and resting on top of her coffee table. Beside the folded blanket is a water bottle and two pills for the headache she has raging in her head; he's her angel. She reaches for the medicine and doesn't even bother to take them with water; she dry swallows them and chugs down half the bottle afterwards.

For some reason, most of the time he spent the night here they always fell asleep in the living room despite the many vacant guest rooms her condo housed. It seemed to be their spot. She took the main couch and he would either fall asleep on the floor or in one of the armchairs. Usually during their celebratory nights, the quantity of food would balance out her alcohol consumption, but apparently she misjudged the amount of alcohol she drank last night. And based off of how stuffed her stomach fills, she doesn't think she'll be eating much of anything, today. She's 26. She can't remember the last time they did this. Her body isn't as equipped to this as it used to be. Today, she'll be working from home but she definitely plans to take time out of her schedule, maybe skip lunch, to venture downstairs to the gym. It actually feels like a necessity that she goes; if not, she's afraid that she won't fit into any of her clothes now.

Erin stands and drags her feet into the kitchen. And the first thing she notices is her dead cell phone resting on the messy countertop; she sighs and plugs it into the charger she has plugged near her toaster. She doesn't know at what point in the night her cell phone ran out of battery, but to be honest the last time she saw or paid attention to her phone it was in the afternoon, maybe Jay had tried to contact her. She needed enough power back in her phone to cut it on and check.

She isn't expecting a text; she won't hold her breath for one either. He probably already doubled his bedpost count at this point. It's the only reason why he most likely didn't want a commitment or a label on their relationship. He wants the best of both worlds and while she thought she was okay with it, the longer she sat on it and pondered it, the more she knew she wasn't. She's almost 30; she doesn't feel like playing games anymore. Erin really likes him; he's different and unlike any guy she has ever dated, but he wasn't ready and if he wasn't ready by 28 years of age, then maybe he'll never be ready.

Erin stares down at her phone, "Ugh." It's going to take a minute for it to boot back up and to pass the time she drifts over to her coffee machine and turns it on in hopes of nursing her hangover. She grabs two mugs and preps the coffeemaker, sighing to herself as the machine brewed the coffee beans. Erin leans her elbows on the countertop and decides for the first time since entering her kitchen to glance around. And if her mother could see this, see her kitchen, she wouldn't hear the end of it. Takeout boxes were scattered around her countertops and she felt utterly frazzled at the sight. She had been too intoxicated to clean up last night. She had passed out on the couch with a banging head and a full belly; there was no imaginable way for her to manage to clean up after their celebratory night. Quietly, and with as little movement as possible, she discards all the trash and packs up every ounce of leftovers, knowing that it'll be eaten at some point during the day by her guys. She feels her stomach clench up and she subsequently wraps her arm around it. Maybe today isn't the day she'll go to the gym; if she works her stomach muscles, she'll definitely puke.

"Hey."

She jumps, "Jesus, Severide," Erin curses, clenching her hand over her chest, "You scared the shit out of me."

"Sorry," his face is flushed and red from the shower he had just taken; he's dressed in a suit and besides the stubble on his face and his dripping wet hair, he's almost ready for his conference.

Erin turns around, leaning her back against the counter to take in his appearance, "I have to start getting used to seeing you in a suit. You look nice."

"Thanks," he eyes her up and down, "and no offense, but you look horrible."

"Yeah well that's what happens when your friend insists you eat your body weight in pizza, wings, spring rolls and pasta."

"I didn't force you."

Erin looks at him accusingly, "Oh really. You practically shoved the pizza box in my lap and said eat up. You know I have little self-control." Kelly chuckles.

And the second the coffee is finished brewing, he sweeps the cup up with his hand, "Thanks."

"That wasn't for you," she groans, snatching another mug, "I was going to make you your own cup if you just had a little bit of patience."

"Yeah, but I needed this cup more than you," he insisted.

"That's debatable."

Erin leans her elbows back onto the counter and rest her forehead in the palm of her opened hand as she listens to her cup of coffee brew. She hears Severide grab a container from on top of the fridge and she immediately knows what it is, "How can you possibly eat another bite?"

"I have a fast metabolism," he counters, grabbing a muffin before sealing the lid closed, "and I don't know when they're going to feed us at this conference. It's all day."

"What time do you think you'll be back?"

He shrugs, "…maybe tonight around nine or ten. I'm stopping for a drink with a few people I met at the last conference. Do you think you'll be up when I get back?"

"I'm honestly not sure. I have to go into the office early tomorrow morning and today I'll probably spend half my time sleeping and puking my guts out."

"I did not need to know that."

"I thought you loved knowing everything about me," she teased, laughing lightly.

The beeping of the coffee machine cuts off his response as Erin shoves him to the side to grab her cup; she immediately adds what's needed in order to curve it to her taste before ignoring the burn of the temperature and taking a large gulp.

"If I had known it was that serious, I would have just let you have the first cup."

She rolled her eyes, "For as long as you've known me, are you telling me that you didn't know how serious I am when it comes to coffee? I wouldn't be surprised if I had a caffeine addiction."

"You're currently undiagnosed," he chuckles.

Erin's hands surround her cup of coffee and her eyes close to take in the aroma of her beverage; it was heaven to her taste buds. She needed this. And she enjoyed her quiet moment with this, only for it to be interrupted by Kelly laughing behind her, "Tell me what's been going on at the firehouse. I know even though you've been campaigning that you visit regularly."

"That I do, I actually try to visit at least once a week," he places his empty cup into the sink as she hops up and sits onto the countertop, awaiting his update, "well you may not know this but Dawson and Casey are married now."

"Are you serious?"

"I sure am."

Erin nods undoubtedly, "Well, good for her. Good for both of them. It's about time."

"I was going to invite you as my plus one."

"But…" she pushes on before taking another sip.

"You weren't in the country and it was kind of thrown together last minute."

"When was this?"

He doesn't respond right away; he's thinking back on an accurate estimation to answer her question, "It was a couple of months ago. I think you were in Costa Rica."

"Oh yes, I went there for a family vacation. I'm definitely planning on going back. You have to visit one day. It's beautiful."

"…I'll just go with you next time you visit."

She drinks the remaining sip of her coffee before handing the empty cup over to him, "For sure."

"Now I have something to look forward to in the near future."

Erin feels the silence between them fall awkward, but she doesn't allow it to remain that way.

Tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, she continues, "What else?"

"They tried to adopt a little boy, cute kid, but his birth father came back at the last minute," he rolls up his sleeves to start washing the dishes from last night and this morning. It's the least he could do since she's offering her place up for him to stay.

"Well that sucks."

"Tell me about it," he sighs, setting the clean dishes onto the dish rack, "Gabs was heartbroken. I know she loved that little boy with her whole heart."

"And how is Boden?"

"He's doing well; his son just had a birthday a few days ago."

"And Brett?"

"…still her chipper self."

"What about _Stella_?" the annunciation Erin makes of her name causes one of his brows to rise.

Severide cleans the last dish and turns to face his closest friend. She feigns innocence, but he knows her and he knows that she's insinuating something just by how high-pitched her voice was at the sound of Kidd's name.

"Kidd is fine."

"…just fine?"

"What are you suggesting?"

"Oh nothing," she hops down from the counter, but the sudden movement causes her stomach to clench; she's nauseous once again but she masks the pain on her face to continue the conversation, "I'm just saying, I know you two used to be a thing, you should give it another shot. I know you Kelly. You still have feelings for her."

"Nah, we tried it already and it didn't work out."

"That's because she was married, the last time you updated me she signed the divorce papers."

"I'm not ready."

"Is it Anna?" Erin doesn't wait for an answer because she can read it all on his face, "she died Kelly, she passed away almost two years ago. She would want you to be happy."

"Who says I'm not happy?"

"You're right," she nods certainly.

A silence falls between them and Erin uses it to walk over to her phone; it's on and she sees a message from Jay sent to her late last night. It's one simple word but it brings a smile onto her face. He reached out.

"Erin," she flips her phone over and sits it back down when he calls her name; he moves in closer and tugs onto her arm, bringing her towards him to swallow her into a hug, "I'm not unhappy. And if it appears that I am it is not because I'm not in a relationship. I just don't want to date right now. I want to focus on my new job." His head rests atop her head.

"Do you ever miss your old one?"

He nods and she feels the movement against her head, "I miss being a firefighter a lot. I think it's the adrenaline that I miss the most, but if I want to make a difference, I think this is the job for me. It's a little boring and it's a lot of frustration involved, but it's worth it."

Erin thinks about her job and the reason behind her profession. She wanted to make a difference and she's put her love life on hold because of it. The dates she had gone on were nowhere near serious and if she had to be honest, a part of her felt like she found problems within all of the guys who asked her out because she didn't want the distraction from her job. But, now, she's starting to yearn for a distraction. She wanted something different. And even if Jay wasn't ready for more, she at least needed to fight for it. Her mother has regularly stated an old proverb to her; a man unwilling to fight for what he wants deserves what he gets.

Kelly's arms tighten around her. She was the longest relationship he has ever been able to maintain and they were only friends. Being single for a while was probably the best for him. And his arms eventually tightened more, and she knew that if he squeezed just a little bit tighter, she would either break or puke all over his suit, "Severide."

"Hmm," he whispers.

"Penny for your thoughts…"

"Is that all they're worth to you?" He chuckles in an effort to lighten up the mood.

There is something obviously bothering him and as his closest friend, it was up to her to get it out of him. This time, she tightened her arms around him, "There's no monetary value to give for how much your thoughts mean to me."

"I'm just really happy to have a best friend like you." And when that label is said, she stiffens in his arms; he feels it and he regrets his last comment almost immediately, "I'm sorry," he can't see her face but because he knows her, he knows she's sporting a smile that isn't reaching her eyes, "You know I didn't mean it like that. I'm not trying to replace anyone here."

"It is fine Kelly," it's not but it doesn't mean she won't pretend it is, "it is okay. Nadia wasn't my best friend. We were just friends."

He knows it's a lie, "Erin…"

"You're going to be late," she cuts him off.

Erin pulls out of his arms and gives him the kindest smile she could muster. He appreciates the effort; he knows she doesn't want him to feel bad for his slip of the tongue. Kelly knows how she feels about the word best friend. She's been wary of using it since Nadia died. Erin gives him a pat on the shoulder and slips past him, heading to grab a sponge to wipe down the counters.

"I'm pretty sure no one would be opposed to me bringing you," he offers an invite.

And she chuckles, eyeing him like he's crazy, "I think I'll pass. I would rather not spend my day listening to old men in business suits complain about society and the working class."

"I figured," he laughs. To be honest, he didn't even want to go.

"You should really get out of here. Knowing the city, it's going to be traffic."

Kelly nods. And that's enough indication for her that he's going to be heading out because she turns away from him and starts scrubbing a sponge against her countertops. He doesn't see any dirt or filth but he knows cleaning is a way for her to clear her mind. And she gets so absorbed in cleaning that she doesn't even realize that he's still standing there. He doesn't care that he's going to be late; he watches her anyway.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

Her breath hitches; he had accidentally scared her again.

"I'm fine." She's lying. They both know it.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"How sure?"

"If you don't go you're going to be late and knowing the host of the conference, he won't be happy. He's a stickler for the rules, especially tardiness." She's right. They both know it.

Kelly backs away from her, watching as she resumes cleaning, scrubbing her way down the counter. He comes close to turning around but he could sense her waiting; she's more aware now, she knows he's still there, watching her.

"My phone will be on all day," he informs.

"You're supposed to turn your phone off; that's one of the rules."

"I don't give a damn about that rule," he shrugs it off, "My phone will be on all day so if you need me, just shoot a text or give me a call."

"I love you Kelly," this eases his mind and causes the tension to release from his shoulders. It isn't the first time she's said it to him; they're close friends and like siblings, he loves her too. And she knows it. And she also knows that by telling him, it would comfort him enough to know that she's not mad at him and nothing has changed between the two of them.

Erin waits to hear the door shut and sighs in relief, throwing the sponge into the sink before lifting up her cell. She rereads his message a second and then a third time before responding, _Hey, –EV_.

-x-

For the first time since he became famous, Jay didn't hang around after the concert to meet fans, sign autographs and take photos. When the last song ended, he handed over his electric guitar to Devon –their event coordinator- and caught the first taxi out of the arena. He was sweaty. He was tired. He was slightly hungover from last night. And he had accidentally left his phone in his hotel room; he had no idea whether or not Erin responded to his message.

Jay accidentally pushed open his hotel door a bit too hard and slightly flinched when it slammed against the wall. After ensuring no marks were left behind, he walks into his room, discarding a sweaty article of clothing with each step towards the bathroom. His shower was going to be quick, a simple scrub and wash to get the muck and sweat from today off his body. Jay turned the nozzle in the shower to adjust it to the right temperature; he stood in the nude waiting patiently for the water to heat up.

It was only the first week in New Orleans, Louisiana and they had a second concert a little over an hour away in Baton Rouge three days from now. He didn't see any free time in his near future, but that didn't mean he couldn't keep in contact with her, possibly set up a day for him to actually go and visit her. He missed her. That much was the honest truth. And that's what baffled him the most; he didn't miss people, especially not some woman he had just met.

The warm steam from the shower starts to fog the mirror and he snaps back into reality. He steps into the shower, sighing in content when the hot water splashes against his exhausted muscles and aching limbs. Jay's eyes fell closed as the water soaked into his hair and trickled down his front and back. The water flows and for a minute he just stands beneath the downpour and allows his mind to wander about Erin. Was she thinking about him? Was he in her mind just as much as she was in his? Has she moved on? Technically, they weren't anything to each other –maybe friends who occasionally kissed- but that would be about it. She didn't owe him anything. She didn't owe monogamy, commitment or a label, especially after he made himself loud and clear about how against it he was; that's not him, but what if it could be? His thoughts led him everywhere, pulled him in all sorts of directions in regards to her.

Erin was in his head; he couldn't get her out. He couldn't even sleep with the woman he met last night because of her. All they were able to do was make out before he pushed her away with some excuse about feeling sick. She was very disappointed but he honestly didn't care; he couldn't go through with it. She wasn't Erin. She didn't kiss like Erin. She didn't resemble Erin enough. She didn't talk, act, carry herself or even dress like Erin. She wasn't her and she'll never be her no matter how much alcohol he consumes.

After rinsing off the remainder of the soap scrubbed onto his body, he turns off the water and steps out. It's warm. The bathroom is consumed with fog and steam from his hot shower. He grabbed the nearest towel and wraps it around his waist before walking out of the bathroom. The next thing he needed to do now that his shower was over was check his messages. If she had responded, he didn't want to leave her waiting for too long, he didn't want her to think he wasn't interested or was simply just leading her on. And that's why when he sees she responded to his greeting, he doesn't waste any time in typing out a reply, _I miss you, -JH_

It was a bold statement for him to make. It was a response he immediately regretted the second he pressed send. But, no matter how much he wished he could take it back, he knew that wouldn't change anything. It's sent. It's out of his hands. He tosses his phone onto the bed and goes to retrieve a pair of boxers.

The towel falls and pools at his feet as he steps into his boxers. He hears his phone buzz on the center of his bed and before he has a chance to check the message, there's a knock at his door, "Hey man, it's me, open up," it's Rixton banging obnoxiously loud.

Jay knows it's no point in waiting Kenny out; his friend won't leave until he got what he wanted and that's for Halstead to open the door. Erin –if it was her who responded- would unfortunately have to wait. Jay pulled on a pair of sweatpants as he crossed the room, approaching the door with a loud and drawn out sigh before opening it up, "What's up?" He's trying to play it cool.

"You left before I had a chance to talk to you," he walks into Jay's room as if it were his own, "I wanted to hear about last night."

The door shuts, "Since when did we gossip?"

"Oh come on, talk to me."

"There's nothing to talk about."

"Don't kiss and tell, I respect that," Rixton nodded approvingly, "I'm just happy you dropped this whole Erin mess."

"I didn't drop anything," Jay admitted quietly.

His words barely reached a volume for Rixton to hear, but he manages. He picks up on it. And he is far from happy about it, especially with Jay's nonchalance towards it. It's like he doesn't even care. Rixton follows closely behind him, "And what does that mean?"

"Nothing happened between me and that girl last night."

"You don't have to lie to me, Halstead. I saw you leave with her."

Jay flops down onto the edge of his bed, his hand reaching over to grab his phone and bring it close; he unlocks the device to see the message was in fact from Erin.

 _I miss you too, -EV_

A sigh of relief is emitted. He didn't realize that a part of him was tense and his breath was partially held until he saw her response. It was better than he expected. His regret over sending that last message disappeared as he typed out a reply, _Can we start over? I feel like things got awkward between us, -JH_

Rixton moved in closer, taking a stand in front of his closest friend, "Hey, didn't you hear me? I saw you leave with her. You were holding her hand and you left with her."

"We kissed and it went nowhere from there."

"She had second thoughts?" Rixton couldn't help but ask.

"Nah, I did."

And the phone vibrates in his hand as if it waited for the perfect moment to interrupt, _Of course we can start over. I know you don't do labels, but, friends? –EV_

He smiles, _Yeah, at least for now, -JH_

The phone is snatched from his hands the second he hits send. He looks up, irritation and annoyance clear on his face, as Rixton sets his cell down on the end table, "Whoever that is can wait. What do you mean you had second thoughts?"

"What don't you understand?" Jay stands face to face with Kenny.

"You broke it off?"

"Yeah, what part of that aren't you getting?"

"I'm disappointed," Rixton sighs.

"Well that's unfortunate for you," Jay shrugs it off unbothered, "If that's all you wanted to talk about then-"

"What's the rush?" He interrupts.

"Rixton…"

"Why did you break things off with her?" He wasn't giving up; that much was obvious.

"I'm not talking about this with you."

"It's because of Erin, isn't it?"

Jay is quiet yet his silence speaks volumes.

"Of fucking course it is," Rixton emits a grim chuckle.

Halstead reaches past his friend and swipes his phone off the end table when it vibrates, "Look man, I'm tired. I'm sure there's a lady or two out there waiting for you, you should go."

"You're really going to let this girl screw us over."

"Why do you keep saying that? She has given you no indication of doing such a thing! You haven't even met her! You don't even know her!"

Rixton shakes his head, "I know girls like her! She's just like every other rich girl out there!"

"You don't know that."

"We worked too hard," Rixton annunciated each word with a clap of his hands, "to get where we are for you to allow some shiny little toy to get in our way!"

"How is she getting in our way? Huh?" Jay approached him, chest to chest, face to face, "Answer that for me. She hasn't done anything! We've been on a few dates; tell me how that is a threat to our music, our career and our reputation?"

Halstead expected the argument to continue, he expected for Rixton to shout, insult and continue this petty grievance, but none of that occurred. Instead when his friend responded, it was barely above a whisper, "You just don't see it."

"I don't." And to be honest, Jay doesn't think he'll ever see it.

"I'm out of here."

"Bye." The door is shut and it automatically locks.

Jay is left alone with his thoughts and a message from Erin patiently waiting for a response.

 _What does that mean, -EV_

He had to reread his last message to her to remind himself of what he said. He had agreed to be friends, but the added at least for now, left her confused. He honestly didn't know what he meant by it either. He didn't put much thought into it when he typed it. It just felt natural. Did he want something more? Yeah, he definitely did. When he left he basically gave her the greenlight to date each other but act single. He didn't want that, especially since even when he tried to be with someone else, he ended up thinking about her. That was a sign. Maybe she was it –the one- as people would deem it. He didn't know. He was no relationship expert and he was far from boyfriend material, but he was honestly curious to find out.

-x-

After pulling back the duvet covers on her bed and climbing inside to settle beneath the warm comforter, she leans against the headboard, propping up a pillow behind her to provide some sort of cushion for her back. She had been messaging Jay on and off for the last hour. She was currently patiently waiting for a response to her last question, wondering exactly what his statement meant. She just wanted him to be honest with her, to be straightforward.

When the hour hand signaled the next hour, she had given up on waiting. Knowing him, and guys like him, he probably didn't even know what he meant. Erin folded her legs, crisscrossing them before pulling the covers over her lap and setting her phone down on it. She lifted the remote to her television and turned it onto some random, black and white film, allowing it to provide her quiet room with some background noise.

Erin browsed through social media as a method to pass the time. She was home alone, Kelly was still out and she had the condo to herself like always. Erin sees that Jay's band was trending and it was a reminder that his concert was tonight; she had forgotten. Maybe he didn't message her back because he was exhausted and fell asleep? It was a possibility. Erin clicks on their trending band name and reads some of the posts made about the night. It all appeared to be positive and she would be lying if she said she didn't watch some of the short videos his fans posted of the night. It looked fun. It reminded her of the concert she attended of his even though she was away from the crowd and had to watch it in a skybox. Maybe if everything goes good, she'll be able to watch it one day from the front row.

Her phone buzzes in her lap, cutting off the horribly filmed short video of him performing what is now probably her favorite song. It's a message from him; it's an answer.

 _I'm good with starting as friends but maybe it has the potential to be more, -JH_

She smiles. And before she could respond back another message comes, _I wish I wasn't so rash in making a judgment call on our relationship, -JH_

 _It's okay; we both have past things we needed to work out, -EV_

 _I appreciate your patience, -JH_

This wasn't a conversation she wanted to have over text. And because of that, she chose to change the topic, _your concert looked great! I saw a few clips and I've read a few comments and people had nothing but good things to say, -EV_

His response comes a little later, a simple, _Thank you, -JH_

He's tired. She could gather that from the late hour and how slow his responses are coming. He must be dozing in and out of sleep. She understands that and after seeing his performance, she doesn't blame him for it.

 _I bet you're tired. We could always just talk tomorrow, -EV_

 _Maybe video chat, -JH_

Erin reread the message once or twice as her fingers hovered above the screen. She didn't know how to respond. He wanted to video chat with her, going above texting and talking on the phone but actually calling each other and seeing one another through their webcams.

 _Yeah, I'll let you know when I get home from work, -EV_

 _Great! Goodnight Erin, -JH_

Erin sends him the same response in return before setting her phone down on the end table, plugging the device up to her charger. She tuned into the film, trying to catch up and understand the plot of the 1950s western movie. She had no idea what the movie was about, it was kind of hard to watch and pay attention to it when her mind was elsewhere. She kept thinking about him.

And her distraction is only furthered when Kelly enters her bedroom, shutting the door behind him with a gentle click. He's bare-chested and holding a bag of warm, buttery popcorn. She says nothing as he walks over, "I heard you were up and I couldn't sleep."

"So you made yourself popcorn?"

"Sure did, and I decided to join you," he grinned when she tossed back the covers, indicating for him to crawl in with the nod of her head.

"When did you get back? I didn't hear you come in."

He shrugs, throwing a few kernels into his mouth, "…maybe half an hour ago, I don't know, but Capp warned me to be quiet. He didn't know if you were asleep or not."

Severide sits up, back leant against the headboard, mimicking her exact position. Both of their legs are stretched out and folded at the ankles, the covers are pulled over their laps and he has the bag of popcorn in one hand as he eats it with the other. She reaches over to grab a few kernels for herself, throwing a few in her mouth to eat, "How was the conference?"

"It was boring just as I expected it to be."

She laughs, "And you get to do it all over again tomorrow."

"Don't remind me."

The old western film pulls in their attention; they watch the hero of the film ride on a horse as he struggles to jump from the horse onto a moving train. It's not her kind of film but at this hour she didn't feel like searching for something else to watch. Erin grabs a few more pieces of popcorn and tosses them into her mouth, "Have you seen this movie before?"

"Are you kidding me? I don't think anyone alive today has seen this movie before," He chuckles, finishing off the remainder of the popcorn, "I'll be right back. I'm going to go throw this into the trash." He disappears for a few minutes as Erin turns off the television. She isn't interested in seeing how the movie plays out, whether or not he makes it onto the train to save his wife from a band of thieves. She wasn't alone anymore; she had company to distract her.

Darkness swarms her bedroom the second the television is turned off. Only a hint of moonlight shines through her balcony. She lays back, snuggling beneath her covers as Kelly makes his way back into her bedroom, throwing the covers back and crawling in, "You know," she smirks, scooting over to give him more room, "I have so many guestrooms." She jokingly reminded him of the fact that there are plenty of places for him to lay his head, including the room he had rolled his suitcase into last night.

"I could use the company." Kelly lies on his side, facing her with his hands beneath the pillow. She's positioned in the same way, but facing him. This reminds her of undergrad, a little after Nadia died; he stayed with her, refusing to leave her side even when it was time for bed.

Erin stared forward, the light of the moon casting a soft beam onto the side of his face. She sees the stubble of facial hair along his jawline; she sees his dark eyes examining her, taking in her own facial expression and she starts to think of Jay. Severide reminds her of him in some ways. From the light hints of facial hair lining his jaw and chin to his build and muscular physique, she couldn't help but see Jay in her closest friend. Maybe that's a reason why she likes him so much. She sees potential. Severide used to be like Halstead in many ways, but now, he was more mature, saving himself for that right woman whom Erin truly applauded after the long line of girls he dated and slept with while in college.

Severide clears his throat, interrupting her thoughts, "So…" he breaks the silence, "What's his name?"

The moonlight allows him to see the baffled expression on her face. He wasn't her closest friend for nothing. He could read her.

"I'm not an idiot, Erin. What's his name?"

"Jay Halstead," she sighs.

"…the lead singer of District 21," his brows furrow.

"That's the one," she lifts her head and flips the pillow over to the colder side, "have you not been current on social media? Whether I like it or not, it seems to be the trending news."

"I try to stay away from it."

"Clearly…"

Kelly grabs an unused pillow from beside him and brings it to his front, positioning it between the two of them as he leans his chin onto it, "So what does that mean for you? What's going on with you and that guy?"

"I don't know."

"Why don't you know? What's the problem?"

Leave it to Kelly to always want to help her out. She blows a strand of hair out of her face as she considers her next words, "Okay, you're a guy."

"I'm pretty sure you've seen proof of that," he interrupts. And that's the truth. She's walked in on him naked before –a couple of times actually- back in college, but he's seen her naked too so it was no big deal. Most of the time it was by accident but other times it was because they were comfortable enough to change in front of each other. Even though she didn't use the term, he was her best friend. He knew it even though she never called him such. Kelly grins, "You've seen the proof multiple times actually."

Severide can see her smile even in the poorly lit bedroom. She's silently chuckling, rolling over onto her back and intertwining her hands over her stomach, "And you've had your way with women in the past, more specifically back in college."

"Where are you going with this?"

She sits up, turning to look down at his laying form to face him, "What does it mean when a guy says he wants to be serious but he doesn't want an exclusive relationship? He confuses me. One second he's against labels and commitment and the next he wants to be friends with the possibility of being something more. I'm 26. I don't want to keep playing around anymore. I want something more, something serious."

"Don't allow him to string you along then."

"How am I supposed to do that?"

"Take charge of the relationship," he reaches out to cover her hand with his, "Make sure you're the one calling the shots. And if he keeps stringing you along, drop him. You're probably too good for him anyway."

"You're just saying that because you're my best friend."

He doesn't make a big deal of it. He doesn't point out her choice of words. She doesn't even realize what she's said and he doesn't want her to shut down just because she said it. He'll reflect on it later because for now he had to play the role of best friend, a role that he takes seriously. He lifts her hand and intertwines his fingers with hers, "I'm not. I'm saying that because it's the truth. You always settle and that's why you agree to go on dates with these knuckleheads and none of them ever make it to date number two."

"I've been on three dates with him."

"That's impressive," he applauds, "Every guy you've been out with since college has never made it past a first date so that says a lot."

"It's kind of hard to date when your father is Hank Voight and most guys only go out with you for the money, the title, the power and possibly a letter of recommendation."

Kelly knows. She calls him every time a date ends horribly. He knows about the one creepy guy that had a fantasy of her playing dead while he hooked up with her. Severide had a few choice words for him afterwards. He had sought the guy out, came to his job and by the time he left, everyone knew about their coworker's obsession with corpses. Kelly also knew about the countless amounts of guys that asked her out only to talk about her dad, try to get a job working under her father or even a letter of recommendation from him. It was hard to have a genuine relationship when Voight was your last name.

"I just feel like one second he wants to be with me and the next he's pulling away."

Severide sits up, "That normally happens to a person with commitment issues," he takes both of her hands and pulls them into his lap, "Erin I'm going to be completely honest with you. I know about the guy's reputation and it basically gives my reputation a run for its money. I don't want to see you get hurt and I think this guy will hurt you," she opens her mouth to argue but she chooses against it when no words come out, "You've suffered enough to last a lifetime and I think you're about due for some happiness. I just don't know if this guy is your way of getting it," he hears her sigh and he immediately regrets his words, "Sorry, I just don't want you to put your hopes into a self-pledged bad boy who will probably end up breaking your heart."

"Are you sure you're not just trying to keep me all to yourself?" She cracks a small smile.

And Severide feigns hurt, covering his heart with the palms of his hands, "How could you think so little of me?"

"Thank you Kelly," she rises to her knees and leans forward to hug him.

His arms circle around her, "Anytime," he presses a small kiss to her cheek.


	6. Skype Call

It was a grand space to say the least. The large, elegant round table located in the center of the luxury banquet room seats many –the Voight and the Olinsky family, with the guest of honor and birthday boy being Alvin Olinsky –vice president of the country and the best friend of the president. The ballroom was immaculately decorated, portraying a classic and elegant formality that gives it a regal and noble appeal. The ballroom was filled with rows of massive round tables that seated the 219 guests that attended the party in honor of the vice president's birthday. This room is beautifully designed in such a sophisticated manner with an expansive dance floor, high ceilings with a revolving crystal chandelier hanging in the center, a custom LED ambient lighting system, unique architecture and even a grand foyer that Olinsky and his wife used for one of the most impressive entrances two hours ago. The circular dining tables were surrounded with comfortable, cushioned chairs; they were high-end, one chair by itself probably cost more than the outfit she is wearing.

Erin stood poised in an off the shoulder, navy blue, elegant, slim fitting skater dress. Wrapped around her neck is a beautiful diamond necklace she received when she graduated from high school. The similar diamond studded earrings are pierced into her ears. She's holding a black clutch in her hand that matches the black heels on her feet. And the last morsel of her appearance is her hair; it's swept to the side and her brunette hair falls over her right shoulder in waves. She stands graceful, listening to Olinsky's wife sing a song in dedication to her husband; she claps once Meredith finishes the last note.

"Wasn't that beautiful?" Camille asserts, retaking a hold of her seat.

Erin sits down beside her, "Yeah, I didn't know Meredith could sing," her words appear distracted as she glances down at her cell phone resting on the table; it lights up to alert her of the message that Jay had sent her, _I have bad news, -JH_

 _Do I even want to know? –EV_

It had been a week since Jay left; it had been one long and noticeably exhausting week since he left, but the two of them had managed to develop a routine of communication. The two of them usually talked on the phone in the mornings, messaged throughout the day and ended their night on video chat. Their frequency of communication had become private; it was something neither of them felt comfortable enough to share with anyone, especially their friends and family.

"Try this," Justin asserted, breaking her from her gaze as he sat a plate down in front of her, "I tried it at the dessert cart; it's fucking amazing."

"What is it?" Erin muttered distractedly; she was eyeing her cell, waiting for Jay's unfortunate news to come through. It was hard for her to focus on anything else besides that.

"It's a Chocolate Panini," She turns to look at him and he grins, "Yeah, I know. I've never heard of it either, but trust me Erin, we've been missing out on this part of heaven our whole life!"

Before Erin could give it a try or respond, her phone buzzed. Justin had been watching his sister as her eyes eagerly scanned the message, _I know I was supposed to be back in two weeks, but something last minute came up and plans kind of changed. Natalie, our PR coordinator booked us some last minute gig that's free for the public to attend and Violet, our marketer and advertiser thinks it'll be good for us in hopes of changing our image. I hate to break my promise, but I honestly don't know when I'll be able to make it back, -JH_

The sound of Erin's nails tapping against her phone screen is masked by the band playing music, _Well that sucks, -EV_

 _Forgive me, -JH_

 _No need for forgiveness. It's work and if there's anyone who understands the complexities of work, it's me –EV_

Erin had watched her father return to the circular table, flopping down into his seat across from her. His tie had been undone, his suit jacket was draped over the back of his seat and his sleeves were rolled up. Her father had been ready to go home an hour ago, but since he was the best friend of the birthday boy, he had to stay until it was over. His eyes sensed that she was watching him and he briefly looks up to give her a smile, "Did you try your dessert yet?"

She snaps out of her gaze, "I'm about to try it now."

Justin turns to face her, grinning from ear to ear as she carefully lifts the dessert and takes a bite of it. Her reaction to its yummy goodness had been instant. It's exactly what Justin expected. Her eyes widened and a sigh of satisfaction emanates from her mouth. It was heaven on earth. It was worth every calorie it delivered. Erin needed to either get the recipe or pack a few to take home with her. It seems as if Justin had read her thoughts because he rose from his seat and headed off in the direction of the dessert cart, hands in his pockets and head held high. Erin's phone buzzed; she sat her dessert down and wiped the tips of her fingers with the cloth napkin before lifting her phone, _I appreciate you for understanding, -JH_

"It looks as if the party is dying down," Olinsky commented, dropping into the seat next to her father, "And I thought being the vice president was exhausting. I swear this party gives it a run for its money. I can't wait to get home and fall into bed."

"You and me both," her father's gruff voice asserts.

Olinsky flashes him a side grin, "Do you think if we sneak out of here anyone will notice?"

"I think if we leave everyone will notice," Voight's chuckle sounds hoarse.

Erin sends back her next response, _I know you'll visit when you have the chance, -EV_

"I snuck the caterer a few extra dollars to pack us up some of that dessert to take home," Justin told his sister, "She's going to bring it over before we leave."

Camille asked, "Where's Meredith? I thought you two were dancing."

"She's still on the dance floor," Al chuckled, lifting his champagne glass, "I'm sure she would love the company if you wanted to join her."

"…only because I don't want her to dance alone," Camille excitedly tossed her cloth napkin onto her empty plate and rose from her seat, "Care to join sweetheart?"

Erin hummed her agreement but she was already far too distracted with the message on her phone, _I'll make it up to you next time I visit. And that's a promise I intend to keep, -JH_

Camille heard her daughter's hum of approval but saw no indication that she even heard her offer in the first place. She stood at her daughter's side, averting her eyes from Voight to Erin as she waited, "Sweetheart, I said did you want to join us on the dance floor?"

Voight was a little confused by his daughter's response, "No thanks mom. Have fun."

"I'll dance for the both of us."

"I'm sure you will," Erin called after her; after her words are said, her attention is drawn back to the vibrating phone in her hand; _I'm free for the rest of the night. What are you doing right now? Are you up for some late night video chatting? -JH_

Her mother simply nodded, bent down to place a kiss to Erin's forehead and then stood back up to head towards the dance floor, "Tell that rock star of yours that I said hi."

Erin choked on her mouthful of dessert she bit into just as her mother made her way to the dance floor. Her father remained at the table, brows furrowed as he watched his daughter respond to a message on her cell, _I am currently at Olinsky's birthday dinner. Hopefully, it's over soon. I've been here going on three hours now. I'll call you once I get home, -EV_

"So, this friend you told me you were going out with a few weeks ago, the day you went to that diner and pictures of you were taken and released, was that the rock star?" her father asked, suspiciously. Frown lines appeared sunken into his forehead.

"Yes," she answers, swallowing back the lump that had formed in her throat, "that was him."

Voight arched a brow, "And how come you didn't tell me that you're dating this guy?"

"…because we're not dating."

Voight rises from his seat and moves to take the empty seat next to her, the one that his wife was previously sitting in. Olinsky had been distracted by conversation with Justin. No one else was seated at their table, so they had the luxury of some semblance of privacy. He scrubbed a frustrated hand over his face, "I'm going to say a few things and I want you to hear me out. This isn't going to work Erin. And you know I try to stay out of your personal life, you're an adult and you can make your own decisions, but I won't sit back quietly as you set yourself up for heartbreak. Your mother's assistant did some research on him."

"Dad, whatever you are about to say I already know."

"He's had one DUI before," he begins to list, ignoring her earlier point, "he's had a charge of public intoxication and simple assault. Erin, don't be naïve. I mean come on, based on his track record he does what he wants, when he wants. I watched a few of his interviews; he's a cocky guy who thinks very highly of himself. He's unpredictable. You won't be a priority. He's left women with more broken hearts than you can imagine. Please, don't be gullible," he chided.

"I know," she whispers; her attention fully focuses back on her phone when he sends another message, _I'm heading to a souvenir shop with Mouse. I should be back in half an hour, -JH_

Hank was feeling slightly annoyed by his daughter's nonchalant attitude, by her indifferent behavior. She doesn't even seem to be taking in what he's trying to tell her. Her eyes barely glanced at him; they're too focused on the phone in her hand.

"Are you even listening to me?" He snaps, taking the cell from her hold to slam it onto the table.

"I'm listening," she retorts.

"Your mother seems to think if I forbid you from seeing him, you're just going to do it anyway to spite me, so I won't forbid you. You're an adult and you'll do just what you want to do, but Erin he built his career on his reputation. No bad boy rep, no career. Do you honestly think he'll change his ways to be with you? Do you honestly think he'll give all that up for you?"

She stares forward, "Can we please not do this here?"

"If not here, then where? When? You've been avoiding me because you know where I stand."

No one seems to notice their argument. Everyone is too busy laughing, dancing, talking and enjoying themselves. Some guests are even pulling out their ticket numbers to request their jackets before leaving. Before Meredith's song to her husband, they already gave him presents, sang happy birthday and ate dinner. It was time for the festivities to come to an end soon.

"I haven't been avoiding you," she whispers, reaching for her cell when it lights up only for him to push it further away from her, "We've both been busy, dad. I've had cases, business calls, speeches to give and charity events to attend. You just got back from Japan a few days ago. And not to mention, you're running a country! You've been busy too. I haven't had the time to drop by just to talk about a guy you think I'm dating."

Hank pinches the bridge of his nose, "I don't _think_ you're dating him. I _know_ you're dating him."

"We're just friends."

"I saw the pictures once they were released, and I'm not just talking about the photos of you and him at that random diner, I'm talking about the ones his fans posted of the two of you at Great Falls Park and the photos the paparazzi managed to capture of him leaving your place that same day. I'm not an idiot. You're either dating him or you're having the benefits of dating him without the commitment. Regardless of which one is true, it's going to end in heartbreak."

This argument wasn't going anywhere. And they both knew it. As a result, Erin rose to her feet, flattened out her navy blue dress before grabbing her clutch and snatching her cell phone from in front of her father, "Al," she waited until the vice president turned to face her, "I'm about to head home. I have to wake up early tomorrow. Happy birthday again," she forced a smile.

"Thank you Erin," he stood to come around and hug her, "and thanks for the gift."

Erin sent a wave to her brother and took a glance –against her better judgment- towards her father. She watched as his face drained of color; he was furious. It was obvious Erin was taking advantage of the fact that this dispute is occurring out in the open. He couldn't shout, make a scene or force her to sit back down to listen to him because they weren't in the confines and the privacy of his office. Voight watches Erin leave; he observes her hand her ticket over to retrieve her jacket before walking out of the ballroom.

When the cool breeze of the night's air hits her, she immediately calms down. After handing her ticket to the valet, she taps her foot impatiently, waiting for her silver Audi A4 to pull up in front of her. She wanted to hurry the valet driver; she wanted to get her car herself but she knew that was against protocol. It was his job and so she had to wait. And that's what she did. She waited with the most uninterested, the most impatient and the most aggravated face she could muster. The remaining valet drivers had been too nervous to approach her; she wasn't angry with them, but she was more than likely to take out her frustrations on them if they spoke to her. For their benefit, she walked over to the curb, wrapped her arms around her waist and waited.

Erin had been too angry, too much in a rush and too unfocused to realize that by the time she tipped the valet driver, hopped into her car and pulled off, she had left her secret service guards behind. She left without her protection. They had been assigned different posts around the inside and outside of the building and when she was ready to leave, she was supposed to call one of them. Erin was too relieved to be gone to even turn around and go back; she needed the comfort of the drive to ease her racing heart.

And Erin drove to the dinner party alone; they followed behind her in the black Chevrolet suburban. It's not as if they were stranded and didn't have a ride home or back to her place, depending on where they decide to go. She honestly didn't care in the moment. All she honestly cared about was the peaceful drive, the empty streets, the dark sky and the winding roads soothing her.

Erin held the steering wheel in a firm grasp as she navigated the vehicle on the two lane winding road. The empty street on a deserted, bent and curved road somewhere in Virginia had been masked in darkness, only illuminating when her headlights shine upon it from a few feet away. She lived around 45 minutes away from the location of Olinsky's birthday dinner. Most people were home, asleep in their beds, preparing for the work day tomorrow, but here was Erin, driving along a winding road that seems to go on forever. She drove for another hundred yards before she even noticed the tire light had suddenly come on.

Before Erin could even register what it meant, she heard a noise, something that sounded like a pop followed by a continuous flap the more she drove. She was forced to pull to the right side of the road, along the shoulder, and sighed. The day she travels without her guards is the day she gets a flat tire. She doesn't even know how to change a tire; she never had the time to learn. She pulled the car as close to the railing as possible, leaving just enough room for her to walk around the car if needed. Erin shut her eyes for a second as she relaxed back into the car's leather seats; "This day just keeps getting better," the hint of sarcasm is obvious.

And there's nothing she can do from inside the car. So, she has to get out. Erin grabbed her cell from inside of her clutch before throwing her door open. Her black heels pressed down into the gravel once she stepped out of the vehicle. She walked around her car and checked each wheel to discover that the rear passenger side tire was flat. What resembled a nail seemed to be lodged into her tire and after running her hand down her face exasperatedly; she unlocks her phone and dials one of the few numbers saved into it, "Hello, this is Roadside Assistance, how can I help you?"

"I have a flat tire," she skipped the greeting and got right to the point.

"Do you have a spare tire?"

Erin thinks on her feet. It's not often that she drives her car in the first place. She pops the trunk to take a look inside, lifting up the mat to see an unused spare tire, "Yes, I do."

"Are you a policyholder?"

"Yes," she answers, mindlessly walking around her car, "It should be under Erin Voight. Do you need my policy number?"

"Erin Voight," It's obvious the woman recognizes her. When she repeated Erin's name, it wasn't as a question, it was more as a shock, "I just need your location and I'll have roadside assistance there as soon as possible to change your tire." She gives the receptionist her current whereabouts before assuring her that she didn't need to stay on the phone with her. She'll be alright.

And besides, she had another person she wanted to call to pass the time. Erin wrapped one arm around her waist as the other held her phone against her ear.

"I missed your voice," he answered the phone after the first ring.

She leans against the closed trunk of her car, "I was hoping you made it back from the store."

"We're actually going to go tomorrow. I didn't want to miss your call."

"Really?" She straightens her posture.

"Yeah, but also because the store was closed," he replied.

She rolled her eyes, "You're funny. Anyway," she smirks, "what's on your agenda tomorrow?"

"We have a radio interview in the morning. We actually just got finished approving some of the questions the host wants to ask us."

"You approve of your questions?"

Jay shrugs, "Normally I don't. Typically, I don't really care what they ask; I'll just answer, but a few recent headlines and a new person in my life made me reevaluate that."

"And I'm that person?"

"Yeah," he answered, "I scratched out any question that involved you. You're off limits. My band knows it. My manager and staff know it. The interview isn't even supposed to be about our relationship but interviewers have a way of easing those questions in. I already scratched the questions out and I warned Will that if the host decides to ask me anything about my personal life involving you, I'm walking out of the interview."

"If you're worried about-"

He cuts her off before she has the chance to finish, "Magazines and celebrity gossip sites and channels spread rumors about us, discuss our relationship and predict where we'll end up in the future. The paparazzi already invade our privacy. People on social media sneak pictures of us and post about us. Every interviewer is trying to be the first to get the scoop on us and I don't want to share the facts of our relationship with the world right now. And if or when I do, I want you there by my side. Our relationship involves the both of us, not just me, not my manager and definitely not my bandmates."

"So, it's our relationship?" She smirks.

"You know what I mean."

"Actually I have no idea what you mean," she chuckles, "you, Jay Halstead, are one of the most complex and interesting men I've ever met. I never know where I stand with you."

"That's one of the disadvantages of dating a man suffering from commitment issues."

"So, we're dating?" She continues to smirk, picking up on his purposeful word choice.

"Erin…"

"Let's save this topic of discussion for when you return. This is an in-person conversation."

She waits and seconds later he clears his throat, "…okay."

A silence falls upon them. Erin pulls her jacket tighter over her body, warming up her arms as the spring breeze rips through the street. Up ahead she sees the headlights of the tow truck; it's approaching at a fast pace, obviously going over the speed limit. When the truck is a few feet in front of her Audi A4, it comes to a screeching halt. Erin stands up straighter from her leant position against the trunk, "Jay, can you hold on for a second? The tow truck is here."

"What?" Jay sounded a bit panicked; he hadn't even known she was waiting for a tow truck.

"It's nothing," she assures him, popping her trunk, "Don't worry. I just got a flat tire. Hold on," She lowered the phone and went to greet the middle-aged, chubby man who climbed down from the truck, "Hi, thank you for coming out so fast. Your timing is really impressive considering I'm basically in the middle of nowhere."

He smiled at her warmly, "Anything for the first daughter; is it just the one tire?"

"Yes."

"I should be about ten to fifteen minutes."

"The spare tire is in the trunk of my car.

The tow truck driver nodded at her and went to retrieve his tools. Erin stood around a bit purposelessly; she didn't know what to do to pass the time until she remembered she had Jay still on the phone. She moved down the road a few feet to hear herself think before pressing the phone back against her ear

"Jay, are you still there?"

"I have no intention of going anywhere," He firmly says; there's no hint of amusement or sarcasm in his tone as he continues, "I have to make sure you don't get murdered."

"You don't need to worry," she tries to reassure him.

"It's hard not to when I'm thousands of miles away and can't do anything if something were to happen to you."

"I can take care of myself."

Jay swallows hard, "It doesn't mean I don't like to do it for you," he's lying in his hotel room, contentedly resting atop of the comforter, "Where are your guards anyway?"

"I kind of left them at Olinsky's party."

He sat up quickly, "Wait. What? Erin-"

"That's dangerous, it's not safe, I know, I know. I should call and tell them my location. They're probably freaking out and they could lose their job if anything happens to me."

"Call them," he orders.

Erin heard the sound of a gentle knock through the phone; someone had been knocking on Jay's hotel room door. And while she sent her guards a message, informing them of her current location but reassuring them that she should be home in the next 15 minutes since roadside assistance had just finished changing her tire, he debated on whether or not to answer the door.

"Are you going to get that?"

"Nah, I don't think I am."

"It could be one of your bandmates or your brother," she asserted, mouthing towards the mechanic her thanks before sliding inside of her vehicle, "It could be important."

"Nothing is as important as you right now."

"Is that a line you use on all of the girls?"

"No, I'm just thinking about your safety," he reassures, rolling onto his right side as the knocking continues, "Whoever that is at the door would want to talk and I need to pay attention to you just in case the mechanic decides to act stupid and try something."

She starts her car, "Well Jay I can guarantee you that it won't happen. He's gone. My tire is changed and I'm about to drive home. So, answer the door. No more excuses."

"I'm not making excuses."

"It's obvious you're avoiding whoever is at the door," she asserts, locking her car the second after she buckles herself in, "Are things still awkward between you all?"

"Are you almost home?" It's obvious he's avoiding the subject; he has a way of changing the topic when he's uncomfortable with his answer.

"I haven't even pulled off yet."

"And why not?"

"Hands free," she leans against the window, phone pressed against her ear as she watches the empty streets, "I can't be on my phone and driving. That's not safe."

"Connect me to the speaker of your car then."

She smirks, feeling appreciated by his need to continue their conversation, "How about I promise to call you once I get home?

"You really want me to answer that door, don't you?"

"I do," she nods affirmatively.

"Fine."

"Call you when I get home."

"I'll be waiting."

-x-

It had been Mouse at the door. He had decided to be the first member of the band to try and clear the air with Jay. Standing outside for over 15 minutes kind of brought back the frustration and the anger he felt towards his bandmate, but once Jay opened the door, it all disappeared. He saw his friend lean against the threshold of the door, blocking the entrance to his hotel room, "Hey Mouse, what's up? Is everything okay?"

"I wanted to talk to you."

"About what?" Jay is on the defense; it's obvious when he crosses his arms over his chest and stiffens his shoulders. His face is impassive and very hard to read.

"Can I…" he nods his head towards the hotel room and Jay picks up on what he's asking.

Jay sighs, giving in and pushes his hotel door further open, "Come on in."

"I won't be long," Mouse assures, walking inside the room, "I just came to apologize. We shouldn't have given you the silent treatment and we shouldn't have jumped to conclusions."

"Besides Ruzek, you seem to be the only one who thinks so…" Jay walks barefoot up to his bed, laptop open and sitting in the center as he patiently waits for Erin's call; he crawls onto his comforter and leans his bareback against the headboard, "You haven't spoken to me since you found out about…my date."

"So it was a date…" Mouse whispers; his voice is barely above a murmur.

"Yeah," Jay takes in his friend's expression; he's hesitant to lower his guard and accept Mouse's apology, at least until he knew his friend truly meant it. For all he knew, Mouse could just be saying this to get more details on whatever is going on between him and Erin, "We've been on three to be more precise," he gauges for Mouse's response, continually giving him as little information as possible to ease his friend into the news.

"Is this all just a fling?"

"Nah, I don't think it is," Jay honestly answered, scratching his hand against his bare ribcage; he didn't have a shirt on because he wasn't expecting company, "I like her. And she likes me."

"I like her too," Mouse reminds, shoving his hands into his back pockets, "I liked her before you even knew anything about her. I liked her first."

"I didn't seek her out to spite you. It just happened."

Mouse bit his lip, already fearing the answer to the next question he's about to ask, "What just happened? Are you guys dating, just hanging out or just sleeping together?"

"Mouse…" Jay warns.

The band had already attempted to approach this subject with him before, they were well aware of the one topic he was protective of and it always involved Erin Voight. Mouse knew that; it's why he nodded and backed down from his questioning, "You really like her. That's obvious. And I was mad at you at first, but considering who you fell for, who could blame me?"

Jay struggled to mask his bit of embarrassment at being so openly smitten with Erin. This was the one time his friend had ever called him out for liking someone, this was the one time he was protective of someone else's reputation and this was the one time he cared about someone else other than himself. His infatuation with Erin was quite apparent every time her name is mentioned; the little grin on his face is something he couldn't control.

"Erin Voight is quite a woman," Mouse continued to elaborate on his earlier point while relaxing his shoulders just a tad bit; he's trying to accept this, "I've followed her story for as long as she's been in the mainstream media. She's one of my favorite celebrities. You're definitely not the only person to be infatuated by her."

Mouse noticed how Jay stiffened at the thought of her possibly being with someone else. He knew as the daughter of the president, as an attorney and a professional and philanthropic woman, she was expected to be with someone of equal importance, someone of equal wealth and someone of equal power. To outsiders, Jay didn't quite measure up.

"Settle down, Halstead," it's the first grin in weeks to spread across Mouse's face in regards to him and Erin, "I followed her career and life long enough to know that while Erin is a great catch, she has no problem rebuffing the advances of the men who attempt to woo her."

"You certainly seem to be fascinated with her. And as I recall, you do have a crush on her."

Surprising to him, Jay felt his hands ball into fists despite his effort to remain impassive; he tried to play it off and pretend he wasn't bothered by it, but he couldn't fool himself and he couldn't fool Mouse. His friend had obviously read between the lines and reached out a hand to assure his friend with a pat on the shoulder, "If you're worried that my interest in Erin exceeds beyond a simple platonic crush then you can relax. I'm a fan. She's someone I respect, a lot, but there's nothing more," Jay released a breath he'd been holding in as Mouse continues; "I was angry, actually furious when I saw those pictures released. I thought she was just a conquest for you. I figured you were seeking her out to use her to change your reputation or to simply get in her pants. I honestly didn't think you were capable of being in a committed relationship."

"Thanks, I guess."

"Just don't screw her over," Mouse warned, waving around a threatening finger in his direction, "I swear Jay. And you know I never get involved in your relationships, but seriously, for the sake of the band, don't let her be just another one of your conquest."

Jay says nothing; he has a way of avoiding a question that he doesn't want to answer. So, instead of focusing on Mouse's warning, he smirks and changes the conversation, "I don't suppose you'd give me the names of the men who like her so I could speak to them myself, would you?"

Again Mouse laughed, slapping a hand on Jay's bare shoulder before he heard Skype ringing on his laptop. Mouse had looked, gasped, and clasped a hand over his mouth when he saw her name and photo appear on the screen. Jay grabs his computer and pulls it onto his lap, "Want me to introduce you to her?"

The bass player glances down at his wardrobe, he's dressed in his pajamas, "Um, not today."

"You look fine," Jay reassures, hovering the cursor over the answer button.

"I can't meet the first daughter while I'm in pajamas. And why aren't you wearing a shirt? Shouldn't you be wearing a shirt?"

"It's nothing she hasn't seen before."

Mouse quirks a brow, "Seriously?"

"It's not like that. This just isn't our first time skyping," Jay answers the call and laughs to himself when he sees his friend scurry out of the hotel room just as the image clears up, "Hey."

Erin stands in front of her laptop screen, still fully dressed since she just walked into her place a few minutes ago. She walks over to her nightstand and turns on the bedside lamp. The light only illuminates a portion of her bedroom but it was enough to provide her with the ability to see around her room. She didn't need to turn on another lamp and waste electricity. Erin moves back to stand in front of her laptop and once the image clears, she grins, "Hi."

He swallows a lump in his throat as he takes in her appearance, "Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes?"

"You don't look too bad yourself," she compliments, eyeing the smooth skin of the man on the screen in front of her, "I'll never get tired of this view."

"Mouse was trying to get me to put on a shirt."

"I'm glad you didn't listen to him," she called out, unzipping her dress before walking off the camera to change, "I prefer it when you talk to me in such conditions."

"I'll be sure to tell Mouse."

She blushes, shimmying out of her dress, heels still on her feet, "You two are speaking again?"

"He actually came to apologize for giving me the silent treatment," when she doesn't respond right away he continues, "and we talked about you a bit."

"Oh yeah," this perks up her ears as she walks over to her dresser, "I hope it was all good things. I wouldn't want to leave a bad impression."

Silence falls over them. She thought he would laugh at her attempt at a joke or even go so far as to assure her that nothing horrible was said about her but no response came. She was met with silence. A quiet that she didn't understand until after she grabbed an oversized t-shirt with her alma mater on the front out of her dresser and turned around to be met with the screen of her laptop. It's sitting on her nightstand, turned to face her and angled precisely upon her body, showcasing her slim legs, her toned waist and her slender frame for his eyes, for only his eyes to see. And he was impressed. She could tell that much by his body language; his focused eyes, his firm posture and how his teeth bites against his bottom lip.

Her dress had been tossed over into the corner when she walked out of frame, but she unintentionally walked back in it, dressed in only her black heels, a bra and matching panties. It was her hesitance to cover herself that draws his attention away. He was caught in the act, and while it was expected to feel some sort of embarrassment, his confidence and assuredness wouldn't allow it. Erin pulled the large t-shirt over her body and smiled when the fabric fell to her mid-thighs, covering her up from his preying eyes.

Erin turns her back to the frame, unclasping her necklace from around her neck before carefully laying it down inside of her jewelry box. She knew he was still watching and her enticingly slow movements proved that she didn't mind at all. She unclipped her earrings from her ears and soon enough they joined her necklace inside the antique jewelry box. This quiet moment, a moment of unspoken words and intense movement and expression is full of more meaning than either one of them could put into words. It's a moment between the two that is unfortunately broken when there's a soft knock at her door and by the look on her face, she hadn't been expecting it. She flashes her eyes to Jay, and he's alert; he's close to the camera as if he can angle his head to see in the direction of her bedroom door, he couldn't and felt forced to sit back helplessly as she walked over to answer it, "Who is it?"

"It's me," she sighs once she recognizes Atwater's voice.

"What are you doing here?" She swings the door open, "I thought you guys were going straight home. You didn't have to check in on me. I'm fine."

His hands are suspiciously behind his back, "I wasn't worried. I'm here because I have something for you," and when she tries to sneak a peek around him and over his shoulder, he starts to laugh, bringing the container in front of him, "Justin asked me to bring this to you."

With the container remaining in his hands, she lifts the lid, "Chocolate paninis," dimples appear embedded into her cheeks, "and you brought me three of them. Oh my goodness, are those strawberries, blueberries and powdered sugar sprinkled on top? I love you so freaking much!"

Erin has no way of hiding her excitement. She had fallen in love with this dessert at Olinsky's birthday party. To show her appreciation, she practically pulls him into a bear hug. He's much taller than her, he's much larger than her and he's much stronger than her. With her petite frame pressed against him, thin arms wrapped around his muscular body and she lays her head against his chest, "Thanks Atwater," she steps back, withdrawing her arms from around him, "did you come alone?"

"Yeah, I dropped everyone off and you were on the way to my apartment."

"Stay in the guestroom," she nonchalantly orders.

And he's worked for Erin long enough to know that he shouldn't argue with her, not this late at night and not when she's determined to look out for his best interest. Atwater simply nods and steps away, "I'll drop this off in the kitchen," he holds up the container, "if you need anything, you know where to find me. Goodnight Erin."

She waves, "Goodnight Atwater," and gently and quietly, she eases the door shut.

"So," Jay clears his voice, drawing her attention back to him, "Atwater, your guard…you two look pretty close."

Erin chuckles loudly, walking into her bathroom; she left the door open in order to ensure that he could hear her, "Atwater is like a brother to me. They're all like brothers to me. They've been through so much with me, they've gotten me out of so many situations, they've been by my side at my best and they never left me at my worst. Yeah, they're paid and assigned to me, but I trust them with my secrets, with the things I love and with my life."

The water from the bathroom faucet is turned on, blaring louder and fills her ears with a noise that wasn't as pleasant as Jay's voice. She quickly grabs a washcloth, wets it and scrubs the light makeup off her face while walking out of the bathroom to hear his response clearer, "I'm glad you have people like that in your life. I can tell they mean a lot to you."

Erin wiped the last of the makeup off her face, "They do. When you spend almost every minute with someone for 11 years, it's kind of hard for them not to mean something to you. I'm sure you can relate, considering your band and all, and how much their opinion about us means to you. I noticed how happy you were when you told me about Mouse apologizing to you."

"He's come around," he informed, placing the laptop down next to him, allowing him the freedom to roll over onto his side, lay his head against the pillow and pull the covers up to his shoulder, "Mouse is okay with us; at least I think he is. He's talking to me again so that's good."

"I'm glad to hear that, but my dad on the other hand, he's a bit more complicated."

"You two finally spoke?"

She tosses the rag into the hamper and shuts off her bathroom light, "Did we finally speak? Yes. Did it go well? Not so much," Erin begins pulling the pins out of her hair as she moves to stand in front of the screen, "He does not support this at all," he's prepared to speak, but she continues and cuts him off, "hold on a second Jay, he may not support it, but I don't care."

Erin sits the remaining hairpins onto the end table.

"Your father is the president."

"Seriously?" a lighthearted gasp comes out as she lifts her laptop, "I don't care if he's the pope, he makes important decisions every day, but who I choose to see, spend time with and date is none of his concern," she asserted, placing her laptop down on the bed, before climbing back into frame, "he doesn't know you, not like I do, and that's not fair to you for him to pass judgment on who you are based on your past. If anyone knows that people are capable of change, it's me and it's him too. I'm not perfect and you know some of the things I did in my past that I'm not proud of, but he's never held them against me. Why should he do the same with you?"

"I pissed off a lot of people in my life, but I can honestly say, I've never pissed off one of the most powerful men in the world. That's a first."

She finds herself grinning, "You have my mother's support. At the party, she even told me to tell you she said hi."

"Well that's saying something," Jay yawned, watching as Erin turned off her bedside lamp, "but what about your brother? Has he given you his verdict yet?"

"No, but I'm not too worried. Justin doesn't have the best track record in the dating department so he should be the last one to judge this relationship."

Both of their rooms were in darkness; their laptop screens provided the only source of light. New Orleans, well now Baton Rouge since he travelled there the last time they spoke, is one hour behind Washington D.C. so fortunately for the both of them they didn't have to consider the time zone in their daily communication. Both of their laptops sat in the empty space beside their separate beds, both are lying down, faces against the pillows and covers pulled up to their shoulders. They're facing each other, smiling with the groggiest eyes and in the faintest whisper, Jay's voice fills her ears, "We're going to have to talk about this."

"You're right," she yawns.

"We need to make sure we're on the same page."

"I know." She nods.

"I don't know what to call us."

"…because you're against labels," she reminded.

Jay props his head up when her comment piques his interest, "I've had some time to think about it. We've called ourselves friends. And I've realized that labels sometimes make things less complicated."

"And what made you realize that?"

Jay shrugs; the grin tugging at his lips warms her up inside, "When Mouse asked about us? I didn't know what to say. I didn't know if we were friends, dating, or if I were your _boyfriend_ ," the way the official title of boyfriend comes from his lips lets her know that he hasn't said the word often; Jay wasn't known for any type of serious relationship. The word itself sounded difficult to come out, it sounded foreign yet it appeared natural at the same time. Weird; it was spoken in a teasing manner, one that followed up his sentiment with a flirtatious wink of the eye.

And Erin didn't focus on it too long. She knew that Jay was going to be moving at a slower pace than she was used to, but this was progress. And with that, she eagerly nods, "The next time we see each other in person, we'll talk."

"And we won't say goodbye until it's settled."

She leans a little closer to the webcam, "I like the sound of that."

When a comfortable silence falls over them, they find themselves laying back down, repositioning themselves to face the camera more clearly while resting their heads against their pillows. She's contentedly at home, always finding comfort in her king-sized bed after a stressful day. And he's in a hotel bed; one that didn't provide the same comfort that his bed at home would provide. Jay had gotten used to it though. With his profession, he travelled a lot, didn't have the time or felt the need for a serious relationship and didn't have many friends outside of his band. It worked for him. And if it wasn't broke, why fix it? That was his motto until he met her. They weren't even in a relationship and the distance started to take its toll. Looking through a computer screen wasn't enough. He wanted a fourth date, he wanted to kiss her, hug her, hold her hand and do absolutely everything he couldn't do while miles away from her.

"Where should our fourth date be?" It's like she read his mind.

Yeah, he definitely needed to figure out when he was free to fly out to D.C. and see her.

"We've never done the stereotypical dinner and a movie."

"That's so cliché," she said, watching him smile after she sent him one of her own, "but wherever we decide to go doesn't need to be chosen tonight. We don't even know if you're coming back."

"When," he casually corrects.

She yawns, "Pardon?"

"We don't know when I'm coming back, but I'm definitely coming back."

"I'm glad to hear that."

Jay attempts to suppress a yawn, but unfortunately fails, opening his mouth wide and eventually eliciting a contagious yawn from her. It's obvious just how tired they both are, yet neither wants to be the first one to end the chat. Instead, he kicks off another conversation starter after yawning for the umpteenth time, "So what are you doing tomorrow?"

"I have to meet a few clients. Hopefully, it's not a hectic day and everything runs smoothly."

"Tomorrow will probably be my light day. I only have the radio interview."

Erin closes her eyes to rest them, but she continues to talk, "The agency where my client used to work wants to settle so I have to meet with my client, the employer of the agency and their lawyer tomorrow…and that's going to suck."

"How come?"

"Landon; he's the corporation's attorney. I have to go in there and see his smug grin since we're settling this outside of court."

"I'm confused Erin. Who is Landon?"

Her eyes flutter open and they meet his curious expression, "He's not important."

"He's important enough for you to mention," Jay counters her argument.

"He's just an all-around jerk," she sighs, rubbing her hand exhaustively against the back of her neck, "He's pretty ambitious, but he uses people and tosses them to the side once he's done."

"And he used you before?"

Erin raises her brows, "No," she smugly grins, "he tries all of the time though. I mean, this guy only has nice things to say to me when he wants something. He tries consistently to get a date out of me and he tries to use me as a connection to my dad to get a job offer, a recommendation letter or a resume boost. He is not against name dropping and my dad has never even met him."

"So, he doesn't take no for an answer," Jay says quietly.

"He's persistent."

"There's a difference between persistence and stubbornness."

Erin nonchalantly shrugs, "That's true."

"Landon is just, as they say, beating a dead horse. His stubbornness will get him nowhere."

"That's also true, but you can't really fault the guy for trying," Erin found herself unintentionally defending her longtime frenemy; "It's worked for him with other people in the past. It just never worked with me; I just have no problem with saying no."

"So, how many times exactly has this guy asked you out?"

The tips of her fingers squeeze her lips together as she thinks, taking more time than normal to actually try and total up the sum for him. She gives up eventually and just throws out an answer, "I lost count after law school."

"Maybe it's the way you rejected him that has him continue to try and vie for your affection. What reasons have you given him?"

"I just say no," she states plain and simple.

"You didn't give him a reason why?"

"No is a complete sentence. It doesn't require a reason why."

"When it comes to him, it seems like it does. After all those years, he still tries."

"I mean look at me though," she flashes him the brightest smile allowing her dimples to appear as she jokingly bats her eyes and twirls a strand of her hair, "Can you blame him?"

"I can't."

The way his eyes take her in, well as much as he can take in through the webcam has her flustered. The joke she made no longer lingers in the air; it disappears and is replaced with something more intense, more focused and more passionate. It's late. It's possible the lack of sleep is getting to them. She watches him tilt his screen, providing him with a much better angle of her. And she realizes she had been staring at him, taking him in just as hard as he was doing to her. Fortunately it's dark in her room, meaning he couldn't see the red tint added to her cheeks as an unwelcomed blush made an appearance. She forces herself to remember his last words and steer the atmosphere back on topic, "And besides saying I see no future between us, there's no reason for me to reject him," she picks up right where the conversation left off, "We're both single. He's handsome, pretty nice, successful and ambitious."

"You're not single," he corrects with a sly smirk ghosting his lips.

"As far as I know, I'm not with anyone."

And his smirk vanishes, a groan emits from his mouth, "I really need to get back so we can talk."

"You really do."

Both of them appear comfortably, lying with their arms and shoulders beneath the covers, faces rest against their pillows in front of the camera with their eyes resting closed. They both appear asleep, but they're awake, either waiting to succumb to exhaustion or for one of them to initiate the next conversation. It's approaching three in the morning, but neither can tell. When talking to the other, it feels as if time stops, it halts for them in order to pause the moment for eternity.

"Since I'll be down here for another week," she audibly sighs at the reminder, "hold off on accepting any date offers from the guy," Jay's eyes remain closed but he smirks.

"You don't have to worry about that."

"So, I've been watching the news," his words cause for her to reopen her own eyes.

"The actual news or celebrity news," she ponders, suppressing a yawn. It won't be much longer until she loses the battle with sleep, especially because she has to wake up early.

"Celebrity news," he clarified.

"And here I thought you didn't watch that crap."

"I didn't at first, but now that we've been the next hot topic, it piqued my interest."

Erin rolled over onto her tummy, arms folded on top of her pillow with her head resting in the crook of it, "What's been said now?"

"Apparently we've been secretly dating for months. We kept it a secret because your father doesn't approve."

She tiredly chuckles, "My father not approving is the only thing they've gotten right."

"One person thought I knocked you up."

"Oh great," she rolls her eyes, "it seems people know more about my life than I do."

"A few other people think it was a temporary fling while I was in town."

She readjusts her position once again, finding it hard to find a comfortable enough spot to remain in; she removes her arms and grips one of her pillows, "Just the other day, I saw on social media that some of your biggest fans aren't too thrilled with the idea of you being off the market."

"Well, depending on how our conversation goes, they might have to start getting used to it."

She flips her pillow to the cool side before setting it back underneath her head, "I just hope they slow down with the insults. Growing up in the spotlight gives you pretty thick skin, but the insults coming from people who hate my dad's politics are completely different than the ones coming from your devoted fans."

He finds himself opening his eyes after her comment. He didn't know how to take it. But, when she chuckles, he knows that it was meant to be light-hearted, that her personal feelings towards his fanatical fans wouldn't prevent her from hanging out with him, going on dates and spending time together. Jay sighs in relief and recloses his eyes, "I'll take care of them."

"And Jay," she waits until his eyes reopen and when they do, their tired gazes meet, "if the radio host does ask questions about me, I won't be mad if you answered."

Jay sits up for the first time in hours, "What we have going on is between us and only us," he pulls his laptop onto his lap and she's met with the clear view of his chest until he tilts the screen up, "I don't want to share it. I'm not just keeping it on the down low because I don't want to taint your reputation; I'm doing it because I want to protect you from my world, from over obsessed fans that you already mentioned and the harsh reality of the entertainment industry. I've been in this business for ten years. This life isn't all it's cut out to be. And once it's out there, it's out there for the world to scrutinize under their watchful gaze."

"The world is already scrutinizing me under their gaze Jay, that's my life," She follows his lead and sits up, leaning her back against the headboard of her bed, "In case you forgot, my father is the president of this country," she yanks her laptop onto her lap and adjusts her screen until it's angled towards her face, "He makes more important decisions in a day than many of us make in a lifetime. And because of his title, his power and his authority, by association his family is scrutinized and judged. I can't miss an event without some type of news speculating over whether or not I'm failing as a first daughter or as a philanthropist. If I lose in court, the people who did not vote for my dad and hate his politics criticize my ability to do my job. When I have a heavy lunch, the news suspects I'm unmarried and pregnant as if we're still living in the 50s and it's mandatory for me to get married first. If I take a vacation, I'm lazy. If I earn and accept an award, it's because of who my parents are; I didn't actually earn it myself," she sarcastically spews before continuing, "If I get caught ordering a glass of wine while out for dinner with family or friends, I'm an alcoholic. If I don't sleep for days and my eyes look red, tired and puffy, I'm on drugs. The criticism doesn't stop and I'm not planning for it to stop once everyone officially knows about us. If we can continue what we started, it's worth it, but it's up to you Jay. I'll be fine with whatever or however you decide to go about answering questions."

His palms lightly scale down his face, "I want our relationship to be official first and then we can talk about our next step."

"I'll hold you to that."

And she intends to do just that.

Jay felt like he wanted more time before the world, before their friends and the media got in the way of this new relationship. And while she understood his point and his concern, she could handle whatever the media or anyone else dished out. Her skin was thick; she grew up in Chicago and while she went to private school and her parents were extremely strict, it didn't prevent her from going through that rebellious phase, the one that almost ended up with her either incarcerated or dead. Erin could handle it. And while his need to protect her was cute, she was an adult; she has four of the greatest men protecting her. Erin would be just fine.

"God, I can't wait to see you again."

During her inner monologue, she didn't realize that they were both lying down again, but this time, she found herself in a comfortable position, one she didn't need to constantly readjust. At his words, she grins, scooting closer to the laptop, "…then wrap up whatever it is you have left to do in Louisiana and come see me."

It's as if those words provide enough comfort to leave them at enough peace to fall asleep. The time, the high emotions and the extreme exhaustion had finally caught up to them. He dozed off first and she fell asleep moments afterwards with the sound of his snoring drifting her off into a dream-like state. It was soothing. It was a reassurance that while she was living in this huge condo, she wasn't alone. Atwater was down the hallway in a guestroom and Jay was right in front of her, not in person, but here, present and with her.

And when they awake the next morning to find that neither one of them hung up their skype call, they greeted each other and grinned.


	7. Surprise Visit

It was no coincidence that Justin decided to walk her home from their monthly brunch; he tried to provide a reason for it, one that was obviously not the truth, but she didn't fall for it. She let him walk her home. She let him inside. She poured herself a glass of water to soothe her dry throat from the impending doom destined for her the second her brother cuts the bullshit and admits the truth, admits the real reason why he decided to join her and her guards on the walk home. Their guards were standing out in the hall together, granting them a semblance of privacy that she honestly didn't want, especially with the way he's looking at her. That sly grin, one of mischief and smugness; his arms are stretched out on her sofa as he watches her drink her glass of water, "So, be honest," he decides now to initiate the conversation, "How long have you and the rock star been dating?"

The sip had obviously gone down the wrong pipe by the way Erin is loudly coughing. He laughs.

"We're not dating," she clarified, taking her empty glass over into the kitchen; her voice remains loud enough for him to hear her next comment, "And it's really none of your business."

"Your business is my business Er," Justin asserted, leaving little room for argument, but he seems to always forget, his sister is a lawyer; she's paid to argue.

"Oh please," she walks barefoot back into the living room to find him relaxed in the same position, "you're starting to sound like dad," she flops down beside him.

Justin had opened his mouth to retort, to deny the comparison she made to him and their father, but he abruptly snapped it shut, choosing instead not to respond. She was right and he absolutely _hated_ to admit when his sister was right. She caught on though; she could read him like a book. And by the expression on her face, he realized the tables had been turned. The smugness that had once been plastered across his lips was now stretched out on hers.

"Cat got your tongue?" she nudged his shoulder.

"I get why dad hasn't met him," he steers the conversation back on topic, watching as the smug grin disappears from her face and sighing in content when he feels it reappear on his, "but how come I didn't get to meet him? How come you didn't come to me? I was at the gas station and saw it on the cover of a magazine Erin. I'm pretty sure every stranger knew about your relationship before your own brother did."

She wanted to hug him, reassure him that the secret meant nothing, it didn't mean they weren't as close as siblings as he assumed they were, it didn't mean that she didn't trust him and it definitely didn't mean she didn't love him. She wanted to hug him tight, but for now she lays her head against his brawny shoulder and releases a heavy sigh, "I didn't say anything because at the time it came out there was nothing to say. It's not true."

"But?" he presses on.

"But," she lifts her head, "I think that's going to change. Well, I hope it changes."

"Why wouldn't it?"

"I think I like him more than he likes me."

By now the siblings were sitting shoulder to shoulder on the plush couch with their feet propped up on the coffee table. Justin turned his head and smacked a kiss to the side of her forehead. He leaned his head to the side in order to rest it on top of hers, "Well he's an idiot."

"We weren't supposed to see each other for two weeks because he had a concert in New Orleans," Erin discloses, finding comfort in her brother's presence, "but two weeks turned into four and now I just don't know. We talk every day. We're friends, but at the rate everything is going, I don't think we're going to be more."

"Is that the reason why you don't want us to get to know him?" Justin prompted.

"It's just new, really new," she whispers.

"That doesn't change the fact that you like him."

Justin was right. She liked him. She liked him a lot. And no matter how frustrated she got when he continued to postpone coming back to D.C., she would always respond when he sent a text or answered when he called.

Erin and Justin fell into a comfortable silence. It was soothing. His arm wrapped around her shoulders and his head laying against the top of hers, depicting the perfect image of a brother comforting his sister. The silence isn't deafening or awkward. It's not even complete and total silence; they can hear the soft whispers of their guards talking and catching up in the hallway.

If Erin had to stay like this, she wouldn't have minded. It was always something about her brother that brought a smile to her face. She would always have his back just as he would always have hers. He tightens his arm around her, pulling her further against him and it's no surprise that he's the one to break the silence, "You're too good for him anyway."

"I think we're good for each other," she corrects, sighing in his embrace, "He says when he gets back to town, he wants to talk about us, but he keeps cancelling on me. I just don't want him stringing me along until he finds someone else worth dating."

"Have you met our dad?" Justin pulls his head away and glances down at her.

"I don't want him getting involved."

"It would be no one's fault but Jay's if dad gets involved," Justin reassures, leaning his head back on top of hers, "And you know dad wouldn't hurt him, at least not much. He'll probably just end his career somehow. That dad of ours can be scary sometimes."

"I think that's the biggest understatement in the history of understatements."

Justin's head falls back against the couch as he chuckles, "Do you remember the stories he told us growing up about when he was a detective?" she nods and he continues, "I wouldn't have wanted to be one of the bad guys who ran into him." She joins in on his laughter.

It's only when there's a knock at her front door that silences them. She wasn't expecting any company. And her guards each had a key and normally knocked twice before allowing themselves in. She had a guest, one that wasn't either of her parents. Justin didn't seem too interested; he remained seated on her couch as she stood up.

-x-

Jay has ridden an elevator on more occasions than he can count and while he's never been nervous about it, this time he finds himself growing anxious. His palms were sweaty and his face was flushed. His hands shook at his side and he honestly, positively felt his stomach turning. He was terrified and he didn't know why. It could be because he's in the elevator of Erin's building. It's a possibility it's because she has no idea that he's here. She has no idea that he's visiting. He had fortunately managed to escape for a few days, leaving his band to spend their free time in Baton Rouge while he traveled here, to see her, to keep his word to her. He promised he would come back, and here he is; he also promised to have that necessary talk about their relationship, and he had every intention of keeping his word. He just needed to see her.

And now he's standing in the elevator, taking him to the top floor of the building. He's moments away from laying eyes on her, crossing his fingers and hoping that she's just as excited to see him as much as he's looking forward to seeing her.

He honestly didn't think his nerves could get worse; he didn't think it was possible, but when the elevator doors opened and he had suddenly become surrounded by a team of secret service men, Jay could say that he figuratively felt his heart drop to the pit of his stomach as he threw his hands into the air and backed away, "I'm a friend of Erin Voight."

Erin's guards fortunately knew of him.

"Alright guys, lower your weapons," he recognized the order being given from Atwater and her three guards followed his order. However, he was unfamiliar with the four other guys surrounding him, their weapons still drawn and aimed. No hint of ease or emotion on their faces.

His breathing is heavy. It's loud. His eyes are wide and panicked as he meets the orbs of Atwater. Kevin maneuvers through the remaining guards that surround him, "You're Jay, right?" he nods silently before the guard waves for him to walk forward, "Is Erin expecting you?"

"No," he whispers, shaking his head, "I wanted to surprise her."

"Next time let her know so she can let us know," Atwater informs, leading him towards the front door of the first daughter's high-rise, "this could have been avoided."

Jay nods his thanks to each one of them as he follows behind Dawson and Atwater. He inhales a sharp breath when he watches them take their positions beside the front door. Jay raised his fist and knocked, tapping his foot nervously as he waited. He missed her; that much was obvious. He hadn't seen her in weeks and if he didn't get away now, he didn't know when he was going to be able to see her again. He flew into town and took the first cab here, to her condo. This trip had been last minute; he never booked a hotel and honestly the thought of where he was going to sleep never even crossed his mind. He'll just worry about that later; now, he realized he had another issue. His luggage was not at his side; he assumed he left it in the elevator until he glanced around and saw Sorensen zipping his suitcase back up after searching it.

Roman tugs him away from the door, "Open your arms and spread your legs." There was no getting used to this.

Dawson had taken over his spot in front of her door. He resumed knocking, wanting her to be aware that whoever is at the door, is someone who doesn't visit often. Jay had been distracted; he honestly didn't even notice Roman patting him down, ensuring that he didn't bring any weapons with him. And once he's done, gets the thumbs up from her guard, he stands behind Dawson, waiting patiently as he watches him twist the knob and push her front door open, his eyes averting upward as they immediately draw towards her, standing at the far end of her hallway; she had obviously been on her way to fetch the door.

And he had been nervous; he had been extremely anxious and uneasy at the thought of Erin being upset with his sudden and unannounced arrival. Once he sees her though, he couldn't help but roll his eyes at the thought of second guessing himself and his decision in the first place.

Seeing the look of surprise on Erin's face when she sees him standing there, in the hallway outside of her door convinced him that he made the right decision. She wasn't upset that he dropped by unannounced. Jay looked at her, took in every curve, every expression and every small movement as he watched her from over Dawson's shoulder. She stood in the hallway of her home, watching him just the same.

Even from the frozen look on her face, the excitement bubbling up within her as she tries and fails to remain expressionless. The second where her eyes met his, every worry and concern she expressed only moments ago had faded away. This had obviously been a welcomed surprise. One that was supposed to satisfy the yearning for one another, but simply seeing each other wasn't enough. They had seen each other through their video calls almost every night since he left. This yearning wouldn't be satisfied until he held her, until she did the same.

There was a push, an undeniable pull each had to the other.

Erin had ran her fingers through her wavy hair and in a breathless voice, she whispers, "Jay."

Hearing her say his name like that, whether she'd meant it to sound so beautiful or not, sparked something within him, something that demanded for him to touch her. And after nudging Dawson to the side, he moved towards her in order to close the unwanted distance between them. Jay never appeared threatening, at least never towards her, but when he approached, he moved with purpose. His eyes set on her as if nothing else existed, as if she were the only person in the room and to him, she was. And soon enough he was there, standing just before her and the next thing Erin knew was she was in his arms, the place she didn't realize she missed until this moment.

The front door had shut close, granting them some semblance of privacy even though Justin sat in the living room, obviously uncomfortable and using his cell to distract him from the show they're putting on. By this time, Erin had already pulled him to her for a kiss, one that's sure and sweet and filled with every ounce of need that she felt for him in his absence. It had been too long. It had been entirely too long.

The way her arms come to wrap around his neck, the way his lips brush against hers, not innocently, but teasingly and hot. The world around them temporarily fades away. Neither had realized how much they had missed each other until this moment, until their lips met in a fiery, intense and demanding kiss. He wants to pull away before he loses every fiber of control, but he's not strong enough, he barely has any self-control at all.

It's not surprising that she has all of the self-control that he's lacking. She seems to have all of the qualities that he fails to meet. She manages to pull away. Smiling, her heart fluttering as she clasps her hands on either side of his face, "Jay," and no matter how many times he hears her say his name, each time is better than the last, "How did I not know you were in town? When did you get in? Did you come here by yourself?"

She hugged him. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and rested her head upon his shoulder, glancing around the room until her eyes meet her brother's amused expression. He's never seen her like this, literally throwing herself into the arms of a guy she appears to be head over heels for in front of her own brother. Normally, Erin would keep the public display of affection, all the hugging and kissing, to a bare minimum when in front of family, strangers and friends, but this time, she paid no attention to him in the room until he rose from the couch and cleared his throat, "I should be going,"

Erin remained with her feet firmly planted on the ground, dropping her arms from around his shoulders. Jay had been caught off guard by the intrusion of an unknown voice, but when he swings around and recognizes the face of her brother, it all starts to make sense. The guards in the hall that he didn't recognize were assigned to him.

"I had fun today," the rush of adrenaline crashes through her body as she remains in Jay's orbit.

Her face is flushed, her cheeks have reddened and she can barely keep her hands off of him. Justin can see why she truly believed she likes him more than he likes her. He couldn't say whether or not it was the truth because he barely knew the guy, but because he knew his sister, sometimes better than she knew herself, Justin could tell that Erin was falling for him, and she was falling hard.

"Jay," Erin's voice broke through Justin's inner ramblings, "this is my brother, Justin." She watches her friend extend his hand towards her brother and besides the firm, masculine-like handshake, Justin hardly paid him any attention; he just kept his eyes on her and spoke, "Don't forget about dinner with the parents at the end of the week."

She nodded with complete certainty, "I won't forget. Text me later," she waves, watching him disappear from out of her condo.

Erin and Jay remain standing in the hallway leading from her living room to the front door, smiling as the door is shut and locked behind her brother. Erin releases a long breath before turning to face him, "I'm sorry about that. He could have at least acknowledged your presence."

"Don't worry about it," he shrugs it off, bringing his hands to her hips.

She leaned into his touch, "I still can't believe you're here," she jumped into his arms for another hug, pulling a laugh from his chest, "I thought you were in Louisiana for a few more days."

"I could have but I didn't need to stay. Every destination we go to, once all the interviews, the shows and publicity events are over, we stay for a few extra days to tour around the city," his fingers brush against her back as his arms remain resting around her waist, "I figured I could spend that time seeing you. It was a last minute thing. I booked a flight and headed straight here; I didn't even book a hotel room yet, but that's the least of my worries."

"You can always stay here."

"Erin…" he starts to rebut.

"I have more than enough room," she reassures him, sliding her hands up his arms before wrapping her fingers around his muscles, "and that way we can stay out of the public eye. I know how you feel when they ask questions about me. That'll be avoided if you hide out here."

He groaned, tightening his arms around her, "I hate to deny you but they saw and took pictures of me coming into your building. I would hate to find out the rumors they'll spread if they didn't see me leave it. My brother is going to call and book me a room, but that doesn't mean we won't see each other as much as possible for the next few days. I don't have to work. My schedule is clear and I don't have to go back to Chicago until Monday."

Erin stepped out of his arms, a smile gracing her face, "Your next stop is Chicago?"

"I live there," he reminds her.

"I'm flying down there Monday night. I have to give a speech on Tuesday about how silence against violence is harmful and how it impacts and desensitizes society."

"I'm beginning to see why Mouse and Burgess are your biggest fans," he astonishes, completely and utterly amazed at just how much she genuinely cares about humanity, "Is there anything you don't do to improve the wellbeing of everyone?"

"I do a lot, but I can always do more."

Her hand intertwines with his and she gives him a small yank to pull him further inside of her living room, "Come on, I'll give you a tour. And I know you've been here before but you never went further than my bedroom. If you haven't noticed by now this is a pretty big place for just one person so I enjoy it when I get company," she chuckles, pulling him to the center of her living room, "this room is pretty much self-explanatory; the living room connects to the kitchen."

Jay takes in the large space. Once walking inside the condo, the hallway was unnecessarily elongated and the walls were filled with artwork from artists he's never heard of, by the time you reach the end of the hallway, her bedroom is the first door on the left, if you take not more than three steps you're in the living room. Just by the looks of this space, he couldn't imagine what the remainder of her condo looked like; he had been impressed just by the setup of her living room alone.

The large L-shaped couch was facing a fireplace that was set into the wall, and had a shelf set a few inches overhead it with a large flat-screen television hanging above it. On each side of the fireplace was a built-in bookcase lined and organized with an overflow of books ranging from literature, self-help to her law textbooks from school. The couch was a light green with cream colored throw pillows that appeared to be fluffy and soft. In front of her couch, there was a dark walnut, rectangular shaped coffee table and beneath that sat a rug matching the color, the style and the fluffiness of her throw pillows. The living room was scattered with a few house plants receiving sunlight from the wall to wall windows lining one side of her place. He was distracted by the design of her living room alone that he didn't even feel her hand separate from his until she moved over towards the windows. The windows stretched higher than he could see, but the view it offered was simply amazing. Monuments, the city streets, vendors and people all appeared outside and he could enjoy watching it all without a bother.

"I'm closing the curtains," she informs, grabbing the drawstring and gently pulling the light cream curtains, matching the shade of the throw pillows, across the wide expanse of windows, "Privacy, now that's better. Okay," she draws his attention away from the living room and points over his shoulder, "that's the kitchen," she points over to the immaculately polished and seemingly untouched kitchenette, "Want a beer?"

"Sure…"

Erin walked barefoot into her kitchen and opened the refrigerator, "Any time you visit, you can help yourself to whatever is in the fridge," she leaned into the fridge in search of the beer, "I swear if it wasn't for my guys and my visitors, most of the food in my refrigerator would go bad. I'm not that great of a cook and most of my meals I order, but I'm learning."

As she talks, withdrawing two beers from her fridge, he stands in the living room, but takes in the sight of her kitchen. For someone who didn't have a favorite color, this light shade of green seemed to be a recurrent factor in her living room and kitchen. It was the shade of the cushions on the barstools by the kitchen islands; it was also the color of a vase positioned atop of her cream-colored, marble countertops. Inside the vase were white lilies, they were obviously not the ones he bought since those most likely died as the weeks went on, they were new, fresh ones.

She handed him his beer and followed what caught his eye, -the flowers. Erin took a swig of her beverage, "White lilies just add something to the décor, don't they?"

"Yeah," his arms lean against the kitchen island, "did you get them or…" he trails off.

She chuckles, "I got them myself Jay. The florist shop left its business card."

"Cool," he slowly nods his head before taking a small sip.

Erin walks around the counter and grabs his free hand, tugging him in the direction of another hallway, "Let's finish the tour," she pulls him closer towards her, "that's the dining room. My mom designed it. It's not really me at all. I usually eat at the kitchen island," she continues to pull him away, "It's more to host dinner parties than anything. Oh, I forgot to mention, one of the closed doors in the living room is a bathroom, there's a bathroom in my room, and those two doors," she points at opposite ends of the hall, "are bathrooms as well. These two rooms," she waves her hand in the direction of both of them, "are bedrooms and there are another three bedrooms down that next hall; five guest rooms in total," she points towards the end of the current hall where it combines with another hallway. Each room, including each guest room, was decorated tastefully, little bits of Erin's personality sprinkled in each room he visited.

After the tour ended, including a view from the balcony in her bedroom and the access door she has to the roof, they found themselves back in the kitchen. He's sitting on one of the bar stools, nursing his bottle of beer as she leans against the island from the other side, facing him. She looks into his eyes, finding him distracted as his mind flutters with only one thought.

"Penny for your thoughts," she notices and initiates the conversation; Erin still finds herself in shock at the fact that he's actually here, sitting at her kitchen island and drinking a beer. He chose to surprise her; he had left his band behind in order to keep his word with her. Maybe the feelings were mutual, maybe she doesn't like him more than he likes her, and maybe they like each other reciprocally.

A flirtatious grin spreads across his face and his eyes darken as he answers, "I was just thinking about how to bring up the topic of us."

"That's a good start," she pulls away from her leant position against the counter and stands up straight, "that's a really good start."

"I want what you want," he says without looking, occasionally biting against the inside of his cheek to relieve him of some of the nerves rushing to the forefront, "I want a relationship with you, but I can't help but wonder are we setting ourselves up for failure?"

She leaves her beer on the counter to walk around the island and approach him, "I like you and you like me. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to see that. We can agree to only date and we'll see if there's an opportunity for more."

"It'll be long distance. I travel a lot."

"Okay," she nods, brushing her palm gently against the side of his face, "long distance relationships are tough, but I like a challenge. And I would rather have you and hardly get to see you than not have you at all," she leans forward, pressing her forehead softly against his, "No matter how far we are apart. No matter how hard our relationship gets, we'll make it through. I'm confident about that. We just have to both want it and work for it."

Jay wants a relationship with her more than anything right now. His fear, the only thing holding him back is the thought that he's incapable of such a thing. Jay wraps his hands around her waist, brushing his fingers against the chiffon texture of her off the shoulder navy blue, floral dress. He pulls her in closer and when she attempts to lean forward and seal their new status with a kiss, he pulls his head back, "We're nothing alike Erin. I'm not perfect."

"I'm not perfect either Jay. I'm far from it actually. And I don't want perfect," the hand of hers that rests upon the side of his face, slides downward to lightly grip his jaw, "And besides, perfect is boring. Your imperfections are what make you who you are."

"We've only gone on three dates."

"It's not about the quantity of time you spend with someone; it's about the quality."

His actions confuse her. His expression confuses her. Everything about him in this moment confuses her. His eyes say he wants her, he wants a relationship and anything she's willing to offer. His body language though, tells a different story. He looks uncomfortable, he appears to be nervous and concerned and Erin doesn't know how to proceed from here.

She drops her hand from around his chin, "I may be confused because I assumed you wanted this as much as I did," he opens his mouth to refute her claim, but she continues anyway, "when we talked on video chat the night of Olinsky's birthday party, I was pretty confident you were going to want to make this thing between us official. I assumed you were going to ask me to be your girlfriend. I thought we were actually going to realize we're dating, we like each other and we want to continue this in the hopes of it getting serious, but am I mistaken?" She would step back but his hands only tighten around her waist to keep her in place.

"I do want this. I want this a lot."

"…then why are you questioning everything?"

"I haven't done this relationship thing in a long, a very long time and I want to do it again, with you, but I don't want to screw it up. I'm not who the world sees when they picture a man by your side. I create music and perform it. You fight for people in the courtroom. I'm reckless; I only care about myself most of the time. You go around the country giving speeches at events and universities on a wide range of controversial topics. On my days off from work, I sleep in or hit up a bar with Rixton. On your days off, you go to charity events and fundraising galas. I've broken more hearts than I care to admit and you-" and suddenly she pulls him in for a quick kiss before he could say anything else, silencing his words and interrupting his thoughts.

It was a brief kiss that only lasted a few seconds but it did what she intended for it to do. It distracted him. No more comparisons. No more doubts. No more reservations about their differences. Erin cupped his face and brushed the lightest of kisses against his lips once, twice, before pulling away, "You don't have to compare us. You don't have to give me reasons about why I shouldn't be with you. I know I shouldn't like you," she admits, watching the small smile on his face disappear, "Everyone has warned me every chance they get, but even when that momentary belief that maybe they're right crosses my mind, you show up, you call, you message me, I see your face, I talk to you, I kiss you, I hug you and it all goes away."

"What about your parents?"

The snort that came from Erin was anything but ladylike. She hadn't been expecting that question.

"You're not in a relationship with my parents. You're in a relationship with me."

And he was; he nodded to agree with her sentiments. He normally never cared about what anyone thought of him, but this time was different. He wanted Erin's acceptance and the approval of everyone she loved. Jay leaned forward, sealing their relationship with a kiss, trailing his hands up her back to tangle in her hair. He wasn't that great with words, but his actions told her everything she needed to know. They were official.

"Does," she says breathless between kisses, "this mean I get to hold your hand in public now?"

He smirks, chuckling lightly against her lips, "You can hold my hand anywhere you want," he pulls away only to pepper kisses along her jawline, "and whenever you want."

"I like the sound of that."

Jay placed a delicate kiss against her bare shoulder, "Me too."

"I know we both probably aren't the greatest at relationships," Erin ran her thumb down his cheek lightly, "but I have a good feeling about this, about us. I have a feeling I won't regret calling you my boyfriend."

His eyes averted up to hers, and though he smiled, it appeared to be nervous, "I appreciate your vote of confidence in us."

Erin smirked at just how flustered he'd gotten, "I've dated, turned down and met enough men to know when I found someone special."

"You'll be the one to change me," his voice is lighthearted. He presses another kiss against her bare shoulder; the dress she wore, it's an off the shoulder chiffon cut that falls just above her knees; the floral pattern imprinted along the navy blue dress catches his eye. Blue has always been his favorite color.

"I don't think you'll need me to change you. I think you're doing that all on your own."

"I really like you," he says breathlessly

"Fortunately for both of us, the feeling is mutual."

And what was a guy supposed to do with a confession like that, besides kiss her? In seconds, his lips were pressed against hers again, the same feeling, the same rush of warmth coursing through them at the contact. It didn't last as long as the first, but it remained to be enough. She moved her lips against his in a dance-like rhythm, one filled with an intense in passion that has his arm wrapping around her waist and pulling her body further between his legs, flushing her chest against his. He is seated on the barstool at her kitchen island and she's standing between his bent legs, she rises to the tip of her toes to kiss him harder.

Erin smiles into the kiss, "Say it," she whispers against his lips.

"Say what?" his fingers edge to the bottom of her dress.

"Say I'm your girlfriend. I've called you mine," she slowly pulls away, "Call me yours."

"Girlfriend seems too trivial of a word for everything I want with you, but it's the next step."

"It is definitely the next step."

He slowly starts to inch up her dress while peppering kisses against her collarbone, "You're my girlfriend," one kiss against her shoulder, "my girlfriend," another kiss, "has a nice ring to it."

Beneath his lips, he could feel her chuckle. He drops the hold he has on the length of her dress and slowly draws his head away. Jay's brows furrowed, "What's funny?"

"You're just cute that's all."

"I don't think I've been called cute before," he briefly thinks to himself before shrugging, "at least not to my face."

"So Jay," her palms rested against his shoulders, sliding down his arms until they reach and intertwine with his hands, "I have you all to myself for the next five days."

"What should we do with all of that free time?"

"I hate to disappoint you, but a girl still has to work," she reminded, noticing the smirk fall from his face, "but once I'm off, I'm all yours. Friday is another story. I have work and then dinner with the parents, but other than that, I'm all free."

"How about we figure out what we want to do today?"

Erin steps from between his legs and goes around the island, grabbing her beer and taking another swig, "Any ideas?"

"Whatever we decide let's keep our date inside."

She finishes off the remainder of her beer, "That kind of limits us."

"We have the next five days, remember?"

The flirtatious smile that falls over her lips quickens the beat of his heart, "You just want me all to yourself."

"Is that so bad?"

His question goes without a verbal answer. She simply gives him a soft smile, one that reaches her eyes as she takes their empty beer bottles and discards them in the recycle bin. When her back was turned away from him, she felt a tinge of heat reach her cheeks. What the hell is he doing to her? Erin toys with a stray strand of fabric from her dress to distract her as she turns to face him, "Are you sure you're not used to this whole dating thing?" she approaches him again; "You're doing a pretty good job of it so far."

"Well it hasn't even been that long yet. Give me time."

"So, you never answered my question. What do you have in mind for us today?"

"How about we make dinner and watch a few movies?"

Her brow quirks at this and she chuckles, "What happened to steering clear of the cliché date?"

"I never said that," he clarified, maneuvering around the kitchen island to approach her, "You said that, but before you discount the idea, hear me out."

She crosses her arms over her chest, "I'm listening…"

"I'm exhausted from my flight and I really don't have it in me for a night out on the town," he begins, casually draping his arms around her waist, "but I flew all this way to spend time with you and I want us to spend the day together. Do you see my dilemma?"

"I do and that's why I think dinner and a bunch of cheesy flicks are perfect for today."

"I said nothing about cheesy flicks."

"We're compromising."

Erin gently presses against his chest, pushing him back in order to provide herself enough room to slide out of his hold. He follows behind her as she leads him back into the living room. Jay watches as she grabs her purse and throws the strap over her shoulder, "Where are you going?"

" _We're_ going to the grocery store," she answers, stepping into her nude heels, "because if we're going to cook, we need to buy the ingredients."

-x-

Secret service swarmed around them as the shouts started, question after question erupted through the air followed by the sight of flashing lights. Jay only had a second to take everything in before he felt the area around him decrease; he was currently surrounded by her guards as they ordered for the paparazzi to keep their distance.

They may have backed up a few feet but they continued to shout their questions.

 _Did you fly back just to see Erin?_

 _Are you staying with her?_

 _Erin, what do your parents think?_

 _Jay, where is your band?_

 _Do they know about you and the first daughter?_

 _How long have you two been dating?_

The yelling and the screaming continued as the paparazzi continued to swarm around them, blending in with fans and bystanders all curious about the commotion outside of the condo. They had barely made it a few feet outside of her building before it all had started. Jay felt his body being unintentionally shoved as her guards worked to keep them safe, get them to the truck and keep the paparazzi a safe distance away. Her hand slid into his grasp and he felt himself naturally tighten his hold around it.

 _Are you two an official couple?_

 _Can we get a statement on the record?_

It continued. New questions and repeated questions were shouted until they reached the truck. Her guards separated a few feet, blocking her from their bright camera lights. And before any of the secret servicemen had an opportunity to open the backdoor for her, Jay gets to it first, yanking it open and helping her inside. He climbs in next followed by Atwater and Roman.

"Are you okay?" Roman is at her side, always the worrier and always the stickler for rules; his eyes scanned her body, checking for signs of injury from all of the confusion outside, and when he saw none, he still couldn't find it in him to relax. He gently grabbed her chin and nudged her face to turn it in his direction, taking a look in her eyes to see the truth, "You didn't get hurt back there, did you?"

"Has anyone ever told you that you worry too much, Sean?"

He releases a breath that he unknowingly held before going back to his usual seat, "…maybe once or twice. They must be pretty desperate for a story. They usually take pictures and shout questions from a safe distance."

And even though they're safely in the locked truck, the questions continued. They were relentlessly shouting from outside of the truck and she couldn't find it in herself to relax until Dawson drove out into the city traffic.

Her hands fumbled in her lap when the silence of the car started to unnerve her. It was too intense. And when she looked over to see Jay casually sitting beside her, eyes focused on the floor of the truck, she found herself naturally sliding closer, "I'm sorry."

The expression on his face reads confusion, "For what?"

"I should have known they were going to be outside. You flew into town and came straight here for goodness sake, any reporter looking for a story would have waited outside," she face-palms.

"Hey," he slides closer, pulling her fumbling hands into his lap, "if it's anyone's fault it's mine. I had to push my way through when I first got here, and it wasn't that many of them when I arrived, but I should have said something. I just forgot."

"In your defense, we were kind of preoccupied with other things."

"If we're lucky, maybe they'll be gone by the time we get back from the store."

"And speaking of the store, what exactly are we getting?" She feels his arm wrap around her shoulders and she leans in, resting her back against his chest, "I'm not the best cook. I can pretty much microwave frozen dinners and I'm pretty great at calling in delivery."

"What about pizza?"

She looks up at him and smiles, "You're speaking my language. Since we're heading to the grocery store, I'm assuming we're not ordering in, so which brand of frozen pizzas are we leaning towards? I have a few recommendations if you're indecisive."

"I was thinking we can make it from scratch."

Erin straightens her posture, shifts in her seat and turns to face him. Every time she talks to him she manages to learn something new. With one brow quirked, Erin asks, "You can cook?"

"I'm no gourmet chef," he clarifies with a chuckle, "but I can cook a few things, homemade pizza being one of them. I used to make it with my mom all the time growing up."

"…then I guess homemade pizza it is," she asserts, wrapping her hand tightly around Jay's arm and lays her head down against his upper arm.

"If I were to list ingredients, would you be able to tell me which ones you have in your kitchen?"

"Honestly, no," she looked up at him embarrassingly, "Sorry, I wish I could be more helpful."

"That's okay; you're going to help me make them."

She lifts her head from his shoulder, "I am?"

"Yeah, it's a part of the date."

"Okay then, fair warning though, you may not want to leave me unattended in the kitchen when the stove is on." Jay laughs at her remark.

Her head went back to resting on his shoulder, their hands intertwined over his lap and they're both staring forward, avoiding the gaze of Roman and Atwater. Dawson was driving while Sorensen sat in the passenger seat. Erin shared a look with Atwater, giving in to his watchful gaze, and when their eyes meet, she smiles, blushes and turns her head to bury her face into the fabric of Jay's shirt. It's like Atwater could read her; he could see how much she really liked him, and while he appeared tough and intimidating, he was such a sweet guy who truly cared about her.

Erin felt Jay's delicate fingers pushing loose strands of hair behind her ear. She noticed how comfortable he looked and how relaxed his movements appeared. On their last date, he had been nervous at the thought of them watching and now it seemed like he didn't care. And while she was used to them accompanying her on dates, she didn't want to test her luck and attempt a more public display of affection. Instead, she chose to pose a question, "So, how did your band take it when they found out you were leaving to see me?"

"Mixed reactions," he vaguely answered.

"I don't have to beg, do I? What kind of mixed reactions?"

She felt him shrug, "Rixton still gives me the silent treatment. Ruzek is happy for me, for us. My brother, he's more skeptical; he doesn't want me to screw this up and possibly hurt our image."

"Nice to know our relationship is a publicity stunt."

"It's not," he clarifies, "well at least not to me."

"What about everyone else? How did they take it?" her voice sounds solemn.

She had never met any of them. She had never seen them or spoke to them. To be disliked by any of them for something she hasn't done was ridiculous and frustrating. She didn't want his relationship with his band ruined because of her. Jay could see the inner turmoil in her eyes, and instead of overlooking it, he gives her hand a tight squeeze, "Mouse has come around and so has Burgess; they're both still trying to come to terms with me dating the first daughter. I'm looking forward to the day you meet them." She was relieved at that. It seemed Will and Rixton were the only two minds that needed some form of changing.

His comment comforted her enough to move on.

"And what happened the day you said I almost met Mouse?" The day he told her about that was brief; they couldn't stay on the phone long, but he had mentioned that Mouse was in the room with him the last time they video chatted.

"He chickened out. He didn't want you to see him in his pajamas."

She brought her hand up to cover her heart, "That's adorable."

"I honestly think either Burgess or Mouse will pass out when they meet you."

"I never knew people thought of me like that. Most people like me or are fans of me because of my father, but to know they are fans of me because they follow my career, that's humbling."

Jay pulled his hand out of her hold in order to wrap it around her shoulders, pulling her in close to press a chaste kiss against the side of her head, "How do you think your parents will react to finding out I came to town just to see you?"

"My mom would probably be cool about it. It's my dad that's the problem," she noticed his leg bouncing against the ground; it's a sign of his anxiety she began to realize and instead of telling him to relax, she simply reaches her hand out to rest it upon his knee as she continued, "If he had his way, I would probably never date. I'm just happy he has a job that keeps him really busy, that way he doesn't have too much time to focus on my personal life."

"And speaking of personal life, what about Landon, how did that go?"

"I forgot I told you about him," she chuckled, "I still don't get him. When I think I'm starting to understand him and how he operates, he throws me for a curve. After the meeting, he wanted to go get coffee. We walked to the nearest coffee shop and he was really sweet and funny, kind of like the Landon I became friends with a time ago. He treated and everything and not even a whole minute after we sat down, he asked me am I going to get him a job at the agency where I work?"

"He's a user."

"Maybe so, but sometimes I feel bad for him."

"You got to put your foot down with the guy," he casually advised.

The response she had prepared hesitates to come out when she realizes they're parked in the grocery parking lot. She had saw Dawson and Sorensen step out of the truck first to stand guard near the rear of the vehicle. Atwater hops out of the backdoor, stands near as Roman jumps out after him. The couple unstraps themselves from the safety harness before stepping out. The door is shut and locked behind them and with two guards in front and two behind; they head towards the entrance of the store, grabbing a cart before walking inside.

It had been entirely too long since Erin stepped foot inside of a grocery store. She worked so much that there was barely any time and since her mother had much more free time than she did, she always ventured out and shopped for both Erin and Justin –for two different reasons. Erin because she didn't have time and Justin because when he does go grocery shopping all he buys is food that'll send him to the emergency room if eaten.

Jay has both hands on the handle of the cart and Erin only has one wrapped around the edge of the handle. They start at the first aisle, ignoring the glances and insistent waves from other shoppers. Two guards continue to walk in front of them and the other two continue to walk behind. When Jay noticed the first ingredient needed, he left the cart in Erin's capable hands and went to go grab it, "This," he holds it up before tossing it into the cart, "is pizza dough."

"You don't have to tell me what each ingredient is; I can read," she follows behind him, pushing the cart along the way.

"I figured you would want to know," he grabs the next ingredient –tomato sauce- before setting it gently in the cart, "You know, just in case you wanted to make the recipe while I'm away."

"I'll just stick to ordering pizza," she responded, watching as he led her towards the vegetables.

"Do you like mushrooms?"

"Yes," she answered, watching as he set it inside the cart.

"What about green peppers?"

"Love them."

He grabs two and ties them inside of a bag, "I hope you know how to use a knife. We'll both be on cutting duty. It'll make the process go by faster."

"I'm good with cutting. I can cut."

When Jay walks away, Erin follows, ignoring the whispering voices and the sneaking glances. She grew up to ignore them, it came pretty easy. It seems to be the same for Jay too. Erin doesn't even think he's noticed. After he sets the cornmeal inside of the cart, the first brave person approaches him asking for an autograph. They came prepared, holding out a pen with a magazine they haven't paid for yet. When he signs it, that's when he starts to notice the glances from around the store. He handed the woman her magazine before the next person approached.

"What else do we need? I can go get it."

Jay seemed to hesitate in telling her. Grocery shopping was supposed to be a part of them spending their day together. He started with her and he wanted to end it with her. Jay held up a finger, signaling for her to hold on, "Guys," he tells the eager fans, "thank you for your support. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for all of you, but I'm here with my girlfriend," by the looks on their faces, he could tell they were all shocked by the terminology he used, "and I want to get back to her," he looks over his shoulder to see Erin biting down on her thumbnail, nervously rocking back and forth, "If you would all be so kind to-"

"Jay," she interrupts.

"Hold on a sec, I'm almost down."

"Take pictures, sign autographs and hug your fans, Jay. It's alright."

A silent conversation through eye contact and facial expression plays between the two of them, leaving her guards and his fans to patiently and confusedly watch. Jay had no problem turning his fans down; he has done it plenty of times before for lesser reasons. He read the last expression on her face, one that wanted him to go forward with her order, but instead of dropping the issue, he sighs, releasing a warm breath of frustration, "Erin-"

She leaves her cart in the protection of her guards when she approaches him. Her hands reach out to grab his and pull him to the side and away from his eavesdropping fans.

"Jay," her voice is low in order to ensure that no one could overhear, "it's really okay. They're your fans. They support you. You want to keep them on your good side. I'll just go grab the rest of the ingredients, look for you and then we can leave and spend the rest of the day together. So tell me, what should I get?"

"You're always thinking about others before yourself," his finger toys with a strand of her hair.

"It's pretty much how I was raised," she shrugs it off as if it was no big deal.

That strand of hair his fingers was toying with a few moments ago was gently pushed behind her ear in order for him to trail his fingers down the side of her face and pass her jawline, "I really want to kiss you right now," his thumb dragged across her lower lip and she opened her mouth slightly, flirtatiously to respond, "And what's stopping you?"

Jay doesn't provide a verbal answer; his eyes tell it all. She reads his expression while watching his eyes scan their surroundings. Erin turns to look, noticing the smiling faces, the bright and focused eyes and the flashing of their cell phone cameras. She sighs, let's go of his hands and takes an overwhelmingly large step back, "What other ingredients do you need me to get?"

"We need toppings. As I recall from our first date, you aren't a picky eater."

"Great memory you have," she taps the temple of his head, "but enough stalling, the sooner I get the ingredients, the sooner we can leave. Now, what should I get?"

"Pepperoni, bacon, shredded mozzarella, Monterey jack and fontina cheese," he lists off.

"Thank you."

Erin backs away from him before slowly turning around to grab the handle of the cart. And as she starts to wheel it away, she hears him talking to his fans, "If I promise to take a photo with each one of you, could you all promise me something?" this catches her attention and when she glances back, she sees his fans ranging from all ages nodding eagerly, "The photos you took of us," he points towards himself and her retreating figure, "would you mind holding off on posting them, at least until we post about it first."

It doesn't take long for her to return with each listed ingredient in the cart. It had to be perfect timing because once she pushed the cart up to him, she realized he had one fan left, surprisingly an older woman whose grandchild had turned her onto his music. For that photo, he had wrapped his arm around her shoulders, grinning ear to ear as if he personally knew this woman. The older woman repeatedly thanked him before rolling her cart away. When the woman disappears and no fans are left in the aisle, Erin walks over, pushing the cart in front of her, "I got everything."

He scans the contents in the cart, "You sure did. Now let's pay and get out of here."

Jay had thrown his arm around her shoulders, pulling her in close as she pushes the cart towards the shortest checkout line. It's about four people in front of them. Erin sets her purse into the front of the cart in order to easily open it up in search of her wallet, "What are you doing?" She asks when he reaches out to pull her hand away from her purse.

"I'm paying," he states matter-of-factly.

"You're cooking; I can pay for the ingredients Jay."

He shakes his head before correcting her statement, "We're both cooking and we're using your kitchen, it's the least I can do."

"I really don't mind."

"Come on; let a guy pay for his girlfriend's meal."

"Gosh," she whispers, reaching her hand up to pat his cheek, "you're cute when you're being all old-fashioned."

At the feeling of her smooth hand against his cheek, Jay responded with a sharp intake of breath as her thumb rubs along the edge of his jawline. His gaze turns dark and his hand comes up to cup her cheek. And when he steps forward and starts to lean in with every intention to claim her lips, he suddenly jerks away, tearing the opportunity away from both of them. She had been prepared for the kiss, she had been just as willing but when he jumps back, she furrows her brows in disappointment. And he picks up on it, feeling bad and taking a hold of her hand to make amends for the lack of physical contact he provided her only moments ago.

She lightly smiles, "I know."

His face said it all. It gave her the reasoning behind the lack of kiss. People were watching. It seemed to never fail. People didn't seem to have any respect for their privacy. They were just two individuals, more well-known than most, who had a right to secrecy and discretion. It wasn't too much to ask. Though by the gawking eyes and the pictures they're sneaking on their cell phones, it seemed to be.

"Ms. Voight," both Erin and Jay look around when her name is called. They find a cashier flickering on the light to a lane that was once closed. He raised his hand and waved them over.

Erin doesn't question it. She frees her hand from Jay's hold and takes the cart to steer it over to the empty lane. He follows closely behind her, watching the bashful teenager –no older than 19- logging into the cash register to prepare to ring up their items. He sees them approach and he purposely remains looking down at the register as he speaks, "We opened the lane just for you."

"You didn't have to do that. We didn't mind waiting in line."

"You're probably busy and ready to get home. I don't mind at all. We need to open more lanes anyway. I keep telling my manager to hire more people, we need more cashiers."

"Do you normally work the register?"

"No," he finally looks up to meet her eyes, "I usually stock shelves, but then I saw you in line and I figured you had better things to do."

"I could have just waited. I didn't mind."

"So, this is one of the perks of being the first daughter, huh?" Jay whispers as he starts to load the food onto the conveyor belt.

As the food is being scanned, Erin sends off two of her guards to bring the truck around to the front of the store. Erin sets the last item on the belt and watches the young man somewhat struggle to ring each item up. He's too distracted; his face flushed and it takes entirely too long for him to scan just one item. Erin picks up on his shyness, appearing to be intimidated by her and Jay's presence. While ringing up their items, he finds himself consistently looking up and between them, only looking back down when they appear to notice.

"Kid, just relax," Erin assured.

"It's hard to do that when I'm in both of your company."

It's Jay who responds this time, "We're just people…like you."

"Ha!" he chuckles, scanning their last item before bagging it, "I appreciate the comparison."

"It's true," Jay reassures, preparing to swipe his credit card only hesitating briefly when he notices Erin in the corner of his eye looking as beautiful as ever.

With such a bright, magnetic smile that can draw anyone in, he's unsurprised when the cashier poses a question towards her, "Before you leave, can I ask a favor of you?" and the moment she nods, he continues, "do you mind if I can get a picture with you? My parents voted for your dad. They are big fans. I wasn't old enough to vote then but I'm definitely voting for your dad in the next election…and hopefully years from now I'll be voting for you."

"Sure."

-x-

Mushrooms and green peppers are chopped and grilled. Bacon is cooked and broken into smaller pieces. Pepperoni is sliced into thin portions. Each topping is cooling off in separate bowls. Jay goes to her oven and fumbles with the buttons until he cranks the heat up, "The higher the heat," he teaches, "the crunchier and more flavorful the crust will be. How are you doing with the pizza dough?" he looks over his shoulder and sports the biggest grin.

The dough had already been sliced in half. A handful of cornmeal was sprinkled on a baking sheet, a few specks of it was stained into Erin's unused apron. Erin had already formed one half of the pizza dough into a large disk with her hands and laid it out on the baking sheet. She was working on the second half when he grabs the rolling pin and works out the kinks in the first one. With small talk and light conversation, the first half of making the pizza seemed to be harmless and somewhat fun. They rotated using the rolling pins, giving their dough a break as the oven continued to increase in temperature. His dough was finished first, spread, circled, covered in cornmeal and placed on the baking sheet; she was having a harder time, her arms growing tired the more she pushed the rolling pin over the bulgy pizza dough. Erin rubbed the back of her hand against her forehead completely enervated, "I don't know how some people can find this fun."

"With the right company," he approaches her from behind, arms circling around her to cover her hands around the rolling pin, "anything can be fun," he steers the rolling pin aggressively over the pizza dough, working out the bulges and kinks until hers start to resemble his.

Once done, he lifts her pizza dough and sets it down next to his on the baking sheet. And now the difficult part was over, he grins, taking a hold of her hand tugging her towards the easiest part of it all, "All that is left is the tomato sauce, cheese and toppings."

"This I can do," she eagerly reaches for the spoon in the bowl of tomato sauce.

Carefully they spread tomato sauce over the pizza dough. A few tablespoons of tomato sauce is added to the center of the pizza and the back of the spoon is used to spread it evenly around the dough. With a comfortable silence fallen between them, she occasionally glances over at him, taking in how focused and precise he is in making his pizza when he starts sprinkling cheese and toppings over the dough. She follows his lead while sparking another round of conversation, "So Jay, what would you have done if you didn't do music? Became a chef?"

He lightly chuckles and shakes his head, "I almost joined the military," he added the last few toppings to his pizza before turning to assist her; "I wasn't always a spontaneous and carefree bad boy. I had my whole life planned out. I was going to enlist, do a tour of duty or two and then join the Chicago police force."

"I almost became a cop too."

His hand hovers above the bowl of mixed, shredded cheese, "You did?" he was trying to picture it and he honestly could see it. She had a determination about herself, a drive to help people –all people- and a fairness and kindness in her heart.

"Yeah," she whispers dreamily, thinking about what could have been as she dropped a few toppings onto her pizza, "my dad was one and so was my grandfather. I figured it kind of ran in the family. And not to mention after my years of rebellion, I realized my dad made the decisions he did to protect me and I kind of wanted to follow in his footsteps."

"I thought you didn't want to run for public office."

"I don't, but it doesn't mean I can't make change another way."

"And what about your brother," he throws out the question.

"What about him?"

"You two seem pretty close."

"Yeah, he's always been the constant in my life. When everything in life changed, he has always remained constant. I love that kid."

When the oven beeps, signaling it has reached the desired temperature, Jay lifts the baking sheet while Erin opens the oven door. He carefully slides it inside, "Whew, this oven is hot," he felt the high temperature heat his face from the safe distance he stood at while sliding the pan into the oven, "we'll cook it for five minutes, rotate it and then cook it for another five," he closes the oven door and immediately goes over to the sink to clean his hands of the mess, "Your relationship with him," he picks back up on their earlier conversation, "makes me want to work on the one I have with my brother."

"What's wrong with your relationship?" She joins him at the sink, untying her apron.

"I guess…you could say he's my manager first and my brother second."

"Maybe you should set some time aside to go out just as brothers and leave work behind," she offers the possibility as she cleans the cornmeal from her face and hands, "My brother and I go to brunch once a month. That's always been a constant for us since I was in college. Sometimes the world gets crazy and people get busy but we always find the time to hang out."

"…because life is short?"

She shuts off the water, "Actually living life is the longest thing you'll ever do. You just need to find the people and the things you love that would make you enjoy it. It's good to find the time to take a step back, have a breather, remind yourself that you're human and you deserve to have some down time with the people you love. It's okay to not work all the time. You should remind your brother of that because sometimes the success and the ambition of it all make us forget."

A silence falls over them when she turns to face him. He appears to be astonished; his eyes are wide as he takes in her words and her presence. All of this was real. They had spent majority of the day together and they had so much more time to spend together. He draws her into his arms and before she could realize what was happening his lips were on hers, "You're amazing, you know that?" he whispered the sentiment against her skin.

"I do, but it doesn't hurt to be reminded," she whispered back.

"You're amazing."

Five minutes had been up and against her wishes he dropped his arms from around her, retrieved her oven mitts and went to fetch the pizza, sliding the oven rack out a few inches before rotating it and sliding it back inside. Another five minutes and then it'll be done, only needing to cool off before being cut and eaten. When he tossed the oven mitts back onto the counter, he felt a slight and eager tug as she pulled him back over, wanting desperately to finish what they started. Her lips were back on his, turning their earlier light peck into something more ferocious and passionate. As the pizza bakes in the oven, one of their kisses gets adrenalized.

It becomes too hungry, too hard, too passionate and invigorating. There's something pulling at him; it's infuriating to be him right now. A man who is unfamiliar to the emotions coursing through him right now; he's a man that is kissing a woman who he doesn't deserve. There's something domestic about them cooking together –he notices it, but says nothing- there's something personal and hot about making out with her in the middle of her huge, pristine kitchen. All of it is different, a kiss like no other.

The moment, this unexpected moment in time, is different in the way that his lips move against hers, in the way that her hands grip around the fabric of his shirt, in the way they melt into this kiss, both knowing that this is much more than a simple make out. It's too intense for that; it's too heavy and ardent.

She moves into his arms, between his legs, pushing his back right up against the kitchen counter.

"Jay…" her moan escalates the kiss, pushing them further and further.

No matter how you interpret the kiss, she doesn't want it going too far and immediately regrets the entire thing when she feels Jay's pants tightening against her, his hands slipping beneath her dress, hiking up the fabric to reveal her thighs to the cool air around them. She doesn't have it in her to pull away –not yet at least.

"Jay…" He nudged her legs farther apart, eliciting a low contradictory groan, "Jay…"

Reluctantly, Erin pulls away, knowing that if this continues, they'll end up in her bedroom and dinner would be burnt. Dragging her lips from his takes enormous effort, her head draws away and she slowly licks her swollen lips. Jay takes the hint. They've only been kind of dating for a month; Erin wasn't ready yet. When they separated, breaths labored, she craved nothing more than to continue this, to keep kissing him, but she knew that in the end, the patience would pay off. She steps back, allowing for him to step away from the counter, relieving his back of the pressure pushed against it.

The tips of her fingers trailed over her lips, "…the pizza," she remains breathless; the way Erin's heart races beneath her skin and how flustered her face appears shows him that she's just as affected by that kiss like he is, "I'm pretty sure five minutes are up."

She's right. He nodded as Erin brought him back down for more kisses, a few light pecks before releasing him to retrieve the pizzas from the oven.

She pulls her dress back down, adjusting the fabric and making herself appear more presentable just in case someone happened to walk in.

The aroma of their personal pan-sized pizzas spread through her condo, overwhelming her senses with the need to dive in and eat regardless of its sizzling temperature. They had to allow them to cool off before they're able to cut it and eat. Erin actually had every intention of staying in the kitchen to literally watch it cool off, but when Jay grabs her hand to tug her into the connecting living room, she knows her earlier idea wouldn't be happening.

"What are we doing?"

"We have dinner prepared," he leads her to the front of her television, "now we just need to pick a movie. Hopefully I can convince you to spare me of some cheesy chick flick."

"Well you're in luck, I happen to not be the biggest fan of cheesy chick flicks. I was joking earlier."

Jay puffs out a small laugh, adding a kiss to her cheek before nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck. He stands behind her, arms wrapped around her, lips peppering slow and gentle kisses up her jawline until he reaches the base of her ear. His lips linger there as he whispers, "You continue to give me more and more reasons to like you."

She fails not to beam up at him, struggling to act as if his comment is no big deal, "Is that so?"

She doesn't wait for an answer. Erin turns in his arms and pulled him in for another kiss after those words. His chest still rising and falling flush against hers as his fingers twist and lightly grip strands of her brunette hair. When the kiss ends this time, it's because of him; he's the one to draw away, bringing the hand that rested at the back of her head to the front to cup her face, he lightly pecks her lips, before releasing her from his hold.

"You must like me a lot." Her teasing tone appeared lighthearted

He obviously cared for her more than any of that superficial bullshit the media keeps sprouting on about –that much was obvious and both of them knew it. Erin kissed him lightly this time on the lips to let him know the feeling was mutual; she felt the same way. And after patting his cheek, she moves towards the television, grabbing the remote off the shelf above the built-in fireplace.

"I would recommend a horror movie, but it's getting dark out and I take it you'll be covering your eyes for most of the movie anyway."

She shook her head laughing, "I enjoy a good horror film. And who says I'll be the one that's scared? I take it you'll be screaming like a little girl."

"I say we make a wager."

This earns her attention, "And what shall we wager?"

"If you cover your eyes at any part during the movie, you have to come to my next concert."

She eagerly nods, "And if you scream at all during the film, you have to come with me to hear a speech on racial injustice; the event is in two days."

Jay offers his hand and they shake on it, making their little wager official. Afterwards, Erin turns to face the large flat screen and uses the remote to turn it on, switching the input from live television to Netflix. She scrolls down to their desired genre and begins to scan through each movie. He's observing her, staring at how she quickly read through each movie synopsis, took a look at the number of stars the filmed received and scanned through the viewers' reviews. She was looking for the perfect movie.

Absentmindedly she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and smiled when she noticed how he watched her, eyes following her every move. She purposely bit her lip and watched as his eyes darkened; she was being a tease. She senses him approach and they make eye contact the moment they find a good horror movie that neither of them have seen.

"I am so hungry," Erin sighs, tossing the remote onto the couch.

He takes a hold of her hand, "…then let's go grab our food and eat."

She allows him to drag her into the kitchen. Their pizza has cooled and is crispy enough for the knife to cut through to create small slices. He cuts with such precision. She absolutely loves it; the way his veins poke out through his arms and her eyes trail up his muscles to see the hint of a tattoo appearing below the cutoff of his short-sleeved shirt.

"I see you have a tattoo," she takes the edge of his sleeve and draws it up, "What is this?"

He glances down to look, "that is called a tribal tattoo."

Her fingers trail over the black ink covering his upper arm, shoulder and upper peck. It's made up of different spirals, coils and curves that combine to create a complex design. It's all shaded in black ink, emphasizing the outline of his built upper arm. It turns her on. She really likes it for some reason. A guy –a bad boy- with tattoos, it's such a cliché but she doesn't mind this one.

"Is this the only one you have?"

"Nah," her fingers draw away the moment he moves to cut the next pizza, "I have two more."

"Where," she turns him away from the pizza. Dinner can wait.

The opposite arm, the one without the tribal tattoo, he turns over, showing a tattoo on his forearm, one that she was completely surprised she hadn't noticed. Her fingers brush over the black ink –D21. It represents his band.

"This was my first tattoo," he informs, watching her take in the permanent ink, "I was just starting out in the music industry. The band and I were a little cheesy and got them. Mine is on my forearm, everyone else has them in different places."

"And where's the last one?"

The same arm as the tattoo symbolizing his band holds his last tattoo. It's on his upper arm and he lifts the fabric of his sleeve to show a black, solid armband tattoo wrapping around his muscle twice. She knows what armband tattoos mean; they denote mourning, a loss of life and she doesn't want to pry, but then he took her hands in his and brought them to his lips kissing them both and that nervousness preventing her from asking the question disappears.

"Who did you get that for?"

He glances down at his arm, "…my mom."

It all makes sense. During their night time phone calls and video chats, he'll talk about his mom and share stories involving her, wondering to himself if she would be proud of him and Will today. The tattoo was a reminder, loving her and ensuring that she followed him everywhere. She knows his mother got very ill and passed away years ago, but she could tell that her death still haunted him, he carried the weight of losing his mother around and most people predicted that it's what led to his rebellious streak, that bad boy persona that transformed him into the rock star he is today.

Erin reads it in his expression that he's ready to move the conversation along. She doesn't want to push; she accepts everything that he's shared. She separates her hands from his and goes to grab two plates, managing to change the conversation in the process, "I watched the highlights of your interview in New Orleans on one of the celebrity news channels."

"And what did you think?" he took the plate he was handed.

"You answered a question about me."

"Yeah…" he replies, sliding their personal pizza onto their plates, "They just asked how you were doing, probably to see if we were still in contact."

"I just didn't expect you to answer."

"You're not upset, are you?"

"No. No, of course not, I told you that you could answer questions about me. I just assumed you weren't bluffing when you said if they bring me up, you'll walk off the stage."

He handed her back her plate, "Since it was a radio interview, you could only hear me. You couldn't see me, but I pretty much gave the guy a warning look. I let that one pass but I wouldn't do it again. There are some topics I don't particularly find myself interested in entertaining."

"Out of boredom…"

"Nah," he shakes, lifting his plate to follow her back into the living room, "more so out of protection."

"You and that need of yours to protect," she whispers, setting her plate down onto the coffee table before claiming her seat on the couch.

"I can't help it; it's innate."

"Is that why you told your fans to hold off posting those pictures of us?"

Jay hands Erin his plate as he goes to turn off every light, setting the mood for their horror movie. By the time he returned to his seat, she was pressing play and handing him back his plate. Erin tucked herself into Jay's side, feet crossed and resting on the edge of her coffee table, "I just want you to know that this pizza is amazing. I'm glad you talked me out of ordering delivery."

"I'm glad you trusted me."

The pizza had been delicious and the movie was perfect. Erin had won the bet, even though Jay disputed the grounds in which she won on. He jumped –and shouted- but not because of the movie; her guards had knocked on the door to inform her that their shift was over and they were leaving. Her one nightshift guard had arrived and stood poised outside of her home. Jay had been spooked because of them, not because of the movie yet Erin continued to claim victory.

"A win is a win Jay, case closed," she asserts after cutting on the lights.

She returned to the couch and sat right back down, cuddling and tucking herself right back into his opened arms. His fingers trailed gently against her bare shoulder as her head rested comfortably against his chest, lying right above his beating heart. She could feel his chest moving with each chuckle, "I would like to appeal that ruling."

"If I recall correctly, the deal was if you screamed at all during the movie then I win. They knocked on the door during the film and you screamed, therefore I win. Case closed."

"Don't lawyer me," he chuckles.

Erin looks up, chin resting against him and he leans forward to brush his lips against hers, "I still won," she grins against his mouth, "don't be a sore loser babe."

"Tonight was pretty damn close to perfect," his nose brushes across hers.

The movie credits continued to roll across the screen. Their empty plates sat in front of them on the coffee table. His arm remained around her shoulder, lips brushing across her forehead as they sit in comfortable silence. He thinks about every conversation they had today which causes him to pull out his cell phone, "What are you doing?"

"I thought about what you said," he raises his cell, closes his eyes and brushes his lips back against her forehead before capturing the photo, "when you asked me why I told my fans to hold off posting those pictures of us."

Erin lifts her head from his chest, "What are you talking about?"

"You asked whether it was my need to protect that made me ask my fans to hold off on posting the pictures they took of us, do you remember?"

She takes a second to think to herself, "Yeah, I do."

"And yeah it was, but," he pauses his thought to turn the screen of his phone to face her, allowing her to take in the picture; it was such a couple-like photo; his arm wrapped around her shoulders, her head resting against his chest, his eyes closed, his lips kissing her forehead, her eyes closed with a faint smile ghosting her lips, "I figured you were right."

"If you keep that up, this relationship will definitely last longer than the celebrity polls say," she cracks such a lighthearted joke when he's trying to be serious.

The smallest smile she ever sees appears on his lips; he's trying to get something off his chest, she realizes that and shuts her mouth, nodding for him to continue, "Both of us are pretty well-known, regardless of what we do we'll have people watching us, judging us and even rooting for us and I realize that I cannot have all the control I would like in protecting our relationship, but what control I do have, I should take advantage of it."

"What are you going to do?"

Jay doesn't answer. He holds up a finger, signaling for her to give him a second as he brings his phone closer towards him. She watches suspiciously. A brow of hers rise as she waits patiently, wondering what exactly he's doing. She sees his fingers type across the screen and she fights every urge to sneak a peek or to take his phone away from him. Fortunately though, she didn't have to wait too long. Her phone buzzed and she quickly swipes her clutch off the coffee table, unbuttoning it to pull her cell out, noticing notifications for every social media site she is a part of. She clicks one, noticing that he has tagged her in a photo. And now Erin knows exactly what he was doing, especially when she sees the picture he took moments ago.

It's the first picture ever posted of them by one of them. Any pictures circulating of them were taken by paparazzi and appeared to be more intrusive than the one she's currently looking at. She receives notification after notification from every social media site as fans share it, retweet it, screenshot it and reblog it. It's out there for the world to see. And when she scrolls to the bottom of the picture, a few feet below the date and time it was posted, she notices a caption.

 _A picture's worth a thousand words_

Erin quickly looks up at him, meeting his eyes and drawing her phone to her chest, "Is this what I think it means?"

"We're official," he slides her cell out of her grip in order to set it down beside his, "All the channels and the sites were going to try and pay the highest bidder for whoever can get our first official photo together, or a true statement on the status of our relationship and I didn't want that. I didn't want someone putting a price on our relationship and doing whatever it is they do to get the first photo of us. I took that chance away from them. I posted the first photo of us."

By now, she knew it was probably being covered on most, if not all, entertainment and gossip sites and she didn't care at all. The guy people assumed was going to break her heart, was going to use her for her reputation and status, was going to keep her at a distance and remain in an uncommitted relationship had taken the biggest step between them. He had taken it upon himself to post the photo. He had alerted the world. A picture's worth a thousand words, and by that caption alone, she knew that the public had just enough information to draw a conclusion on what that meant for their relationship, but not enough information to open the doors to allow everyone inside the privacy of their relationship. That caption had been perfect. Most would assume they would release a statement on the status of their relationship, but instead they got a picture, a picture that tells the beginning of their story just as well as written words would tell it.


	8. Official Outing

Erin groaned a little, bringing her forearm up to cover her eyes to protect them from the bright sunlight beaming in through her window. Her cell was ringing, the unholy noise drilling into her ears as her hand reaches out towards the end table, patting around the furniture in search of the discourteous device. When she feels it, she slides her finger across the screen, answering it without even checking to see who had been calling. It was Jay. He was entering her building and wanted to give her a heads up. She brought her phone in closer to see a text to the group message she has with her guys, informing them that her _boyfriend_ was on his way up.

Over the last two days, since the picture of them was posted on all social media sites, they had nonstop notifications coming through, some wishing them luck, some insulting one of them depending on who the 'fan' had a crush on and others providing them with their unwanted opinion. Last night, Erin and Jay had to silence their notifications in order to get a semblance of peace. Their announcement to the world did not go as expected, at least when it came to Jay and Erin's loved ones, neither had heard anything from anyone. It was a bit unnerving, but at the same time neither minded. The first day he came to town they made pizza and watched a movie. And the day afterwards, she –and her guards- had picked him up from the hotel that Will managed to book for him and they spent the day together, consisting of breakfast at one of her favorite restaurants, a stroll through a few historic museums, attended a wine tasting and closed the night watching a movie and cuddled up in front of her fireplace while making s'mores. Last night had been absolutely perfect and amazing.

And they still had a few days together. She had an event that she planned to attend today and he was accompanying her, as her date. It's their first official event together as a couple.

Erin tossed the covers off her body and climbed out of bed, relieved to have showered and washed her hair the night before because she honestly didn't feel like doing it today. She naturally made her bed –out of habit- and then dragged her feet into her bathroom, switching on the light and shutting the door. She had to get ready –washing her face, brushing her teeth, doing her hair and applying a touch of makeup to her face. Her head, everything from the chin on up contradicts everything below; she remains in her pajamas from last night, a pair of sweatpants and a tank top. Her hair had been pulled into a tight, high ponytail, revealing every aspect of her clear skin. She smiled at her reflection; the tad of makeup she did use wasn't excessive, it only made her features appear smooth and relaxed, transforming her tired eyes into more open and alert orbs. She placed her toothbrush back into its holder and gave herself one last look over, running her fingers through her ponytail. Her look was business casual enough.

When Erin reopens her bathroom door, she realizes her room was not the same as she left it. Now the large space held another body, holding up two coffees from the café down the street.

"You bought me coffee?" her grin shows her appreciation.

Jay sips his beverage, "I figured you could use it."

Erin walks over, slipping the coffee from his hands and rising to the tip of her toes to press a quick, chaste kiss against his lips. She withdrew seconds later and took a swig of her warm beverage and by the look on his face he knew he hadn't gotten her order right just yet. He took the cup back, "Sorry. I'll get it right eventually, but until then I still owe you a drink." She didn't mind him getting it wrong. She actually appreciated the effort he gave in trying to get it right. This was his second attempt and even though it wasn't as bad as his first, it was still way off.

"I got you a bagel," he walks over to her dresser and that's when she notices a brown paper bag sitting atop of it; he grabs the fumbled sack and extends it to her, "I hope you like plain."

"Plain is perfect," she took the bag from him and eagerly opened it.

She pulled half of the bagel out and carefully took a bite, being mindful not to mess up the little amount of makeup she had painted on her face. Erin walked over to her window seat, flopping down onto the cushion and leaning back slightly to rest her lower back against one of the throw pillows. Without saying a word, she motions for him to join her. He sits her coffee down on the dresser and carries his over, carefully taking a seat beside her.

"Do you want a bite?" She extends her half eaten bagel towards him.

"Nah," he shakes his head, "you eat it. I ate mine on the way over."

It doesn't take much to convince her to eat the rest. She simply shrugs her shoulders and brings the bagel closer to take another bite. She pulled her legs up on the seat, crisscrossing them to get more comfortable, "What did you do when you got back to your room last night?"

"I finally spoke to Mouse and Ruzek; they called."

"Did it go well?"

"They already kind of figured we were in a relationship. They were more surprised that I was the one to announce it."

She finished the last bite of her bagel, "So your change in reputation is starting to take effect."

"Yeah, but Erin, I don't want you thinking that I'm only dating you to change my reputation."

"…but that is a reason why you're dating me?" she wants clarification and she reaches her hand out for his to ensure him that she won't be upset with his answer, "Be honest."

"No, but it's a perk. Sorry."

She appreciated the honesty and to show her gratitude she leaned forward, tugged the tie wrapped around his shirt and pulled him closer, chastely pressing a kiss against his lips.

"You look nice," she complimented, waving off his unneeded apology.

Jay had amusingly forgotten what he was wearing and had to take a look down to see what piqued her interest. He stood in a pair of brown dress shoes, a gray tie, a light purple button up shirt tucked in with a brown belt buckled through the loops of his navy blue slacks. She told him business casual and this was the best he could find through the contents of his suitcase.

"I'm glad you approve. I wouldn't want to hurt your image."

She journeyed over to her closet, "Screw my image."

"Isn't next year your dad's re-election?"

Erin moves through the large space of her closet in search of an outfit to wear, "Yeah, so what?" Normally, she planned her wardrobe a day in advance, but she had been busy with much more entertaining activities.

"I just figured you would want to keep your image clean because of that."

She grabs a hanger holding up a white blouse, "That's true, but Jay I highly doubt what you're wearing as my date is scandalous enough to ruin my image." The blouse is held up to her upper body as she takes in her appearance in the built-in mirror against the far wall of her closet, "I must say though you're really early," she grabs another hanger holding up a pencil skirt, "the event doesn't start for another three hours."

"I figured we could do something else to pass the time." This sparks her interest, causing her to lean back and poke her head out of the closet; her brow rises in question; Jay chuckles, "Has anyone ever told you that you're absolutely adorable when you're confused?"

"What are you hinting at?"

"…not that."

"Well don't leave a girl in suspense," Erin declares, carrying the two hangers outside of her closet in order to lay the outfit along the edge of her bed.

"I saw an ice cream cart a block over. I figured we could walk to get some and walk around your neighborhood to pass the time."

"I think that's a good idea."

With her outfit for the event lying neatly along her bedspread, she ventures over to her dresser to find some clothes for their ice cream date. She wouldn't get dressed for the event until she returned; she didn't want to get her business casual outfit messed up. It doesn't take long; she simply grabs a comfortable pair of black leggings and a denim shirt. She carries it into her bathroom to quickly get changed and avoid the wanting and yearning eyes of her boyfriend. She goes back into her closet and grabs a pair of brown boots from the shoe rack, "How do I look?"

"Beautiful," he walks over to take her hand; she grabs her brown, cross-body purse with her free hand and throws it over her arm and head and lets it drape around her upper torso.

The couple walks hand-in-hand out of her condo; her guards following at a safe distance behind them. They have a semblance of privacy; her guards allowed for them to walk ahead, but eyes remain locked on her throughout the entire walk. Earpieces on and situated in their ears, weapons safely holstered and darks shades on to protect their eyes from the beaming sunlight, they appear to be the epitome of a bodyguard.

Since her bodyguards are keeping a safe distance, their ice cream date appears more normal than any of their previous dates. Her guards are walking –she's well aware of that- but she couldn't see them. They managed to blend in –somewhat. Since the release of their relationship status, it hasn't been as many paparazzi taking pictures. This was the most privacy they were going to get anytime soon, especially since no paparazzi or obsessive fans seem to be around. Even with their hands intertwined, sunglasses shielding their eyes while sporting the widest grins their facial muscles could muster, they appeared to be the average, normal, everyday couple.

"So," Jay takes advantage of his hand being intertwined with hers to tug her closer, bumping his shoulder against hers, "lay it all on me. What do I need to know about this event tonight?"

"It's honestly probably no different than an event you would normally attend," she chuckles when his brow rises in disbelief, "I'm serious Jay, we'll arrive and they'll be a shitload of paparazzi that are not a part of the event, we'll have to push ourselves through the crowd and then the security will lift the rope to let us through, we'll have to allow the event's photographers to take a few photos, maybe answer some questions from reporters and then we'll go inside and be seated. It's pretty simple and kind of straight to the point."

"I've attended award shows; not anything like I'm about to attend today."

"Are you nervous?"

He shrugs and considers the way in which he wanted to answer her question, "…maybe." He sticks to the truth.

And Erin tugs him to a stop, yanking him back to pull him closer. She didn't want to force him to do anything that he wasn't comfortable with doing. She wanted them to have fun. Yes, they had an agreement, but it wasn't worth it if he was going to be miserable and nervous. With one hand intertwined with his, she edges her second one closer until her fingertips brushed his palm. She felt him tense beneath her touch; his nerves obviously on an internal downpour. Erin wants to soothe him and she laces her second hand through his as an attempt to do so.

"Hey," she whispers, drawing in his attention; her face appears solemn and concerned, "I change my mind. You don't have to go with me. I can just go alone and we can meet up later."

"You won the bet; it's only fair."

"I don't want you to be bored."

"I won't," he reassures, bringing her hands up to press a kiss against both, "I'll be with you. And besides, if we're going to be dating, I'll have to get used to events like this anyway."

Jay gave her that boyish grin she was starting to love, resulting in her lips tugging up into a smile that reveals those dimples that captivated him. She wanted to kiss him. Here. _In_ public. And surprisingly, he was okay with it. Her attention averts back and forth between his eyes and his lips and he cannot help but wonder what's taking her so long. He notices her hesitation; he sees her reluctance, but with the slow and deliberate nod of his head, he watches it all disappear.

His thumb comes up to trace the upward tilt of her lips as she leans forward, sealing one of the briefest and purest kisses against him. It's refreshing. It's suitable and appropriate. And Erin ensures that it doesn't progress because just as soon as it starts, it ends. She steps back.

No one catches it. No one notices, maybe because they have sunglasses on to hide their eyes or because her guards are spread out and keeping their distance to not draw in attention, or maybe it's because everyone is occupied and enjoying the beautiful spring afternoon. Whatever reason it was, neither would complain.

And without another word, they continue on their quest to get ice cream.

As they reach the cart, the cashier had been about to close up shop soon; it was apparent by him searching for the lock to close the freezer portion of the cart. When Erin and Jay arrive, he decides to keep the cart open until they're served. Erin receives a scoop of chocolate ice cream and Jay had happily accepted a scoop of vanilla. Jay pays, surprisingly without any argument from Erin, and once the money leaves his hand, he takes a hold of hers and they begin to head back. They walk slower than before now that they're content with their ice cream cones in hand. His arm comes up to wrap around her shoulders, bringing her closer to him as they enjoy the first half of their day together.

Erin leans into his embrace and takes a lick of the sugary, cold substance before posing a request, "Tell me about your bad boy rep."

They continue walking as he turns his head to brush his lips against the temple of her forehead, "You already know about my reputation."

"I know what I read online and what the media reports, but they don't always tell the truth so I want to hear about it from you," she clarifies.

He begins, "I was a flirt."

"You're still a flirt," she nudges his side goofily.

"Nah, I mean I used to think flirting wasn't such a big deal. It was just something to keep me busy." Jay takes a bite of his ice cream.

Erin arched a brow, "So when you flirt with me?"

"It's a big deal."

She bites against her bottom lip, beaming from ear to ear, "What else?"

"You probably already know that I slept around."

"Did you at least…"

"Use protection?" he stops walking when she nods, "Of course, always."

"That's good to know."

Erin resumes walking when she notices the flirtatious grin stretch across his face. It's cute, it's smug and it's enticing. Jay jogs to catch up to her, "How come?"

"You just never know where the night will end."

He finds himself speechless; it doesn't happen too often, but today, whatever date it was, needed to be recorded because this woman had managed to silence him. And she knew it. By the look on her face, she knew what her words did to him. And after taking another taste of her ice cream, she stops walking to turn and face him, "Cat got your tongue?"

"…more like a woman," he clarified.

"I want to sleep with you," she is always so confident in her words and how she carries herself and he absolutely loves that about her, "God knows it's been too long," her cheeks turn a shade of red but it doesn't stop her from continuing, "but I'm not going to be reckless about this Jay."

And that's when he picks up on what she's hinting at, "I'm clean Erin. I wouldn't lie to you about that."

"I know," she whispers, a hint of a smile appearing along her face as she moves closer, "I trust you," she brings her hand up to rest against the side of his face, her thumb lightly rubbing against the skin beneath his eye, "I just had to be sure. Safe sex and all that good stuff," to close out her sentence, she lays a gentle, yet unbelievably sensual kiss against his jaw. It's a peck –a slow one.

And when she draws away, they're both too captivated with one another to notice the lingering glances from the onlookers. The only thing that manages to draw his eyes away from hers was the smudge of chocolate obviously apparent on her face.

"You have a little," he gestures towards the ice cream in her hand, implying that some of the chocolatey goodness had managed to smudge against the corner of her pink lips, "it's still there," he comments when she attempts to wipe it away, only actually managing to wipe against a small speck of it.

"Did I get it?"

The look in her eyes takes him for a pause. Those eyes of hers, filled with purity, of hopefulness and selflessness has him desperately wanting to reach out and touch her, anywhere because he honestly didn't care. She was just so fucking beautiful and perfect, even with chocolate ice cream smeared against the corner of her mouth.

And he realizes that the longer he stares, the more nervous she gets. There's really no point in her asking was there something on her face that has him staring because there obviously is and she's never been the one to lack confidence but as he stands in front of her, staring, she finds that self-confidence she developed over the years slowly slipping away.

"Jay…" her whisper snaps him out of his thoughts.

"Sorry, you just missed a spot," and instead of pointing it out again or waiting for her to ask where, he simply leans forward, clipping her chin with his thumb and pointer finger to tilt her head up before brushing his lips against the excess ice cream. His tongue briefly comes out to swipe against the sweet, cold flavor dripping against her warm skin. It melts against his tongue and he feels her body stiffen in front of him, her breath hitches and her eyes close, only reopening when he finishes, "…maybe next time I should get chocolate."

Their eyes lock the second he pulls away, hand remaining against her cheek, and she swallows dryly against the lump that suddenly appeared in her throat.

"Uh," her voice betrays her when it comes out sounding huskier than she's used to, "thanks."

He winks, "No problem."

From the way he's looking at her, his eyes flickering back and forth between her eyes and her lips and the way his hand remains against her cheek, she thinks he's going to kiss her. She's ready for him to kiss her. And when his body starts to move forward, the tips of his dress shoes coming to press against the tips of her boots, she knows he's going to kiss her, at any moment, he'll seal the deal. And she's ready for it. Inching in, closer and closer, until, " _Oh my gosh!"_

The sound of an unfamiliar voice forces them apart before they could even fully enjoy a simple kiss. For a second, a brief, fleeting moment, Erin forgot who they were, she forgot they were familiar to most people and she forgot that moments like what they had almost participated in were rare for people like them to attempt in public –at least if they wanted a semblance of privacy. And whatever moment was brewing between them had unfortunately ended as voices of teenage girls squealed in excitement or groaned in jealousy at the sight of their favorite rock star now officially off the market.

Ignoring the overbearing fans and the snapping of pictures from people at a distance, he keeps his eyes on her. Without tearing his attention away from her, his arm finds itself wrapped back around her shoulders and they continue their walk back to her condo. Their ice cream continues to be eaten as they strike up more casual conversation, "What were you like as a kid?"

Jay chuckles at her question, "I was definitely not like how I am now," he thinks back to a much simpler time, one filled with childhood innocence and freedom, "I guess you could say I was like the average kid, at least until my mom died. Once she died, everything changed. My dad started drinking, Will started closing himself off and I started staying out. I didn't really want to be home and be constantly reminded that she's dead. I found entertainment in girls and my music. I stayed out late. I partied. I did what I wanted. I never apologized for anything. I broke rules. I stopped caring. I never opened up. I lived on the edge. I crashed wherever I happened to find myself. And I honestly probably wouldn't have gotten through her death if it wasn't for Mouse."

"He's your best friend?"

"Yeah…" Jay finishes the rest of his ice cream.

"Tell me about him."

"So you can realize how much of a better person he is than me and run off with him?" his question is a joke –for all intents and purposes- but she can tell even through the humor in his voice, a part of him actually feared it.

Erin finishes off the rest of her ice cream and uses the napkin to dab the corners of her mouth. Her shoulders remained covered by his arms and she had no intent on losing the connection. She notices her guards walk closer as they approach her building, and she knew he wouldn't be comfortable talking about this in their presence. To buy them some time, she stops him from walking inside, "Hold on a second," she waves her guards away, "Jay, I won't be going anywhere. I won't be running off with your best friend. I can assure you of that."

And he believed her.

"Until I met you, Mouse was the kindest and most selfless person I knew. I honestly didn't think anyone could top him," she blushes at his compliment, "Mouse kind of dug me out of that hole I found myself in and I started to channel all of that energy into music. Mouse is a pretty amazing guy; he donates to your mother's charity every year. He's always wanted to attend a speech of yours but the dates either never sync up or the tickets are sold out."

"Thank you for sharing that with me," she waves for her guards, hinting to them that they're ready to keep moving.

As they enter into the lobby of her building, she assumes the conversation was over. Even as they wait for the elevator to escort them up to her high-rise, she doesn't expect for him to pose a question himself, "And what about you?"

"What about me?" she walks into the elevator. Her guards file in and their bodies take up most of the space. She stands at the back with Jay, both of their bodies close together as they make room for more people to enter.

"Tell me about your best friend."

Erin doesn't respond. She doesn't even make any indication that she has even heard his question. Instead, she takes his hand and waits, waits for the other people to get off at their floors before she feels comfortable enough to respond, "I don't have a best friend."

The words leave her mouth with a clear feeling of melancholy embedded in them. She didn't have a best friend. And from the looks of her life –at least from Jay's vantage point- it didn't appear that she had any friends at all.

They reach the top floor and as protocol normally has it, she waits in the hall with him and Sorensen as the remaining guards clear the house. She feels his eyes on her and she does everything possible to avoid his gaze, "No, best friend?" she nods, "What about friends?"

"I have friends," she thinks to herself as they wait, "I used to have three, but I have two now. Is it sad that I can actually count the number of friends I have on one hand?"

"Not at all," he reassures, "Tell me about them."

"Well uh," Erin wraps her arms around her body as Sorensen catches her eye; he remains quiet but provides her with a comforting look, one that provides her with the assurance needed to continue, "I met Nadia when I was in undergrad. She wasn't a student. Nadia hung around one of the shadiest spots in the city; she was on drugs and was paid for sex just to feed her addiction," Jay hadn't been expecting this turn of events; this was something about her life that was completely unexpected. He was interested in it though and he waited for her to continue, "She was the first person I tried to help. I took her to rehab. She didn't go in the first time but eventually she got the help she needed. I let her stay with me in my off-campus apartment, I got her a job at the precinct where my dad used to work and she was doing really well."

Each guard filed out of her room gave her a nod of the head indicating that it was safe to enter. It clearly served to be a good distraction for Erin to clear her throat and give Sorensen an appreciative smile. Her guards knew; they had been in her life when it happened.

Erin entered her condo and went straight towards her bedroom; Jay followed closely behind, waiting patiently for her to pick up where she left off. And when he realized she had no intention of doing that, he spoke up, "Then what happened?"

"She died," Erin asserts, unbuttoning her denim shirt.

"Was it an overdose?"

"Nadia was clean," she sounds almost defensive.

"How did she die?"

She takes off the denim shirt and tosses it over into the clothes hamper, "She was killed."

"How…"

"Jay," she pulls the white blouse from the hanger, "I appreciate your interest, but I really don't want to talk about her. Not _now_. Not _yet_."

"What about the other two friends?"

She relaxes; her shoulders slumped as she released a sigh of relief at him willingly moving on, "I knew Annie since I was a kid. We did absolutely everything together. And then Charlie came in the picture and our lives started going downhill because of him. We got caught up in drugs," this takes him for a surprise, "underage drinking, joyriding and trespassing. We did a lot and then Annie got pregnant and my dad found out about Charlie, used his connections to send him out of the city and then we moved and me and Annie kind of fell victim to the distance separating us until one day she reached out," Erin takes a pause, one that's longer than normal as she uses the silence to get dressed, "We keep in touch. We try to see each other at least twice a year."

"That's good…"

"Yeah, my friendships are pretty dysfunctional," she chuckles to try and ease the shift of mood in conversation; it doesn't work as much as she wants it to, especially when Jay responds.

"And the third friend…" at the mention of this, he notices her shoulders tense; now he was definitely curious. Erin Voight was more of an unopened book than people gave her credit for.

"Kelly, he's nice," Jay's brows rise at the mention of the masculine pronoun. While he was fully aware that women and men could be friends, he never actually saw it successfully occur unless one of the two was married. Ruzek and Burgess had been friends for years before they both started developing feelings for each other –the same goes for Will and Natalie.

Anyway he snaps out of his trailing thoughts to tune into what she has to say about this guy, "I met him in undergrad, but we also started out in law school together, he dropped out to be a firefighter. He's actually the newly elected mayor of Chicago so you can say he's successful and busy and we don't keep in touch as much as I would like," he releases an unintended breath of relief, a release that she doesn't hear, "but when we do see each other it's always a good time. I used to always keep guys at a distance because I've been hurt but Severide, that's his last name, he's different. I didn't realize how easy it is to slip back into a habit until college. After Nadia's death…" she trailed off, struggling to find the vaguest words to continue on, "let's just say if it wasn't for him I would probably either be dead, drowning my sorrows in alcohol or shooting up drugs in an alley somewhere."

"Erin…"

She cuts him off before he has the chance to console her or even apologize for asking her the same questions she had asked of him, "Yeah, but a best friend, I don't have one of those."

"Severide sounds like best friend potential," he chimes in and had been caught completely off guard by the dry chuckle that followed from her as she responded, "He's a really good friend, probably the closest thing I have to a best friend, _but_ ," she emphasizes the word, "we have our history and I'll leave it at that. So, to answer your question, no I don't have a best friend." Well, if she was going for vague, she had been successful.

"You will eventually."

It's his words that end up comforting her. He sounds so sure of himself –she'll find a best friend eventually- how could he possibly know that. And besides, she's went through most of her life without one, it's not a mandatory requirement to get through the daily stresses that life brings, but it does seem to make those daily stresses easier to overcome.

Erin stands barefoot, holding her black heels in her hand as she watches him. His eyes are looking at everything but her. She walks over to his line of sight but he looks elsewhere. It's obviously hard for him to be vulnerable, to open himself up or to even handle the emotions she's inflicting. It's easier to overlook than to acknowledge. For if he acknowledges, then he'll have to face it and that wasn't fair of him to make this about his issues instead of her story. He's nervous to look in her eyes and see what she's thinking and how she's feeling. And when she moves to stand in his new line of sight, his eyes flicker upwards.

"How do I look?" It's the only way to get him to actually look at her.

His eyes avert in her direction, "Beautiful as always."

Erin stands confident in a pencil skirt, a slit rising high on the side with a white blouse tucked inside the waistband of her skirt. She has a hand on her hip as she appears poised in her black heels. She waits for him to collect his thoughts as she hooks her diamond studs through her earlobes, "Jay I didn't mean to make things awkward."

"You didn't," he reassured.

"You say that but by the look on your face you seem vexed."

"I'm just not used to talking about stuff like this," he confessed, "I normally just bottle that stuff in, but I found myself sharing it with you and wanting you to share it with me too. I'm just not good with sharing and accepting feelings. I'll get the hang of it though."

She smiles. And she would hug and kiss him but they're already running behind schedule. She rushes into her bathroom in order to redo her high and tight ponytail. Erin moves through the house, grabbing her clutch and tossing her phone and wallet inside, "No more feelings right now then," she waves him over, "it's time to go."

Jay is perfectly okay with that. He leads her out of her condo, as her date for the night, with his hand rested against the small of her back.

-x-

A plus one is a guest to a social event. A plus one doesn't get their own invitation but tags along with the invited party. Jay is Erin's plus one and by the looks of his tapping fingers against his bouncing leg, he was absolutely nervous about it. He knows there's no reason to be worried; it's not like he'll be mingling through the function, express his opinions or share ideas, he'll simply be sitting through a speaking presentation on racial injustice occurring throughout the country.

It's as simple as that. Yet, he finds himself growing even more nervous when the truck pulls up in front of the event.

"Are you sure about this?" Erin finds herself worried.

"A bet is a bet. I lost."

"Jay…"

"And I want to be here with you," he finishes. His leg stops bouncing and he makes the move towards the door.

During the ride, it was explained to him that her guards will be keeping their distance just as they did during their walk to get ice cream. Because the event has their own security, her guys awarded her a bit more freedom. They'll be close, they'll be within a safe distance, but she wouldn't know it.

"If you're sure about this then let's go."

"I'm sure."

Jay had opened the door and just like he was warned, they were surrounded by paparazzi that were not hired by the location. They had simply been here to get photos to sell to news outlets and magazines. Erin notices the unaffected expression on Jay's face; they didn't bother him as much. And she needed to know his secret because they gave her the opposite effect. Jay climbs out first and uses his body to shield the cameras as he leaves enough room for Erin to step out. It was hot, to see him shield her with his body as the paparazzi attempted to shove their cameras in her face was overwhelmingly hot. He repeatedly told them to step back, give her space and move as he leads her towards the entrance rope, cutting them off from the outside paparazzi and the paid photographers.

It's clear how much her discomfort bothers him. She's blocking her eyes, allowing his arm around her waist to steer her in the right direction. He honestly didn't care if they caught pictures of him; he chose this life and he knew all that came with it. She didn't. She was subjected to this life because of her father's career.

Her feet stumbled; it's hard to walk in heels when you aren't sure about where you're going. Jay holds her up though and no one seems to catch it. This angers him more, watching the flashing lights of their cameras and the shouts of their questions as if she owes them anything has him growling. And she can feel the rumbles of his chest, alerting her to his rising anger.

"It's okay," she drops her hand from her face in an attempt to show him that she's fine.

His hand tightened around her waist, "This isn't fair to you. I get it if they want to ask questions about the event, but they're asking personal things, they're asking about things that's none of their business."

"It comes with the job."

When they reach the rope and hand over their tickets, they step in, noticing the backdrop presenting the speaker's book, ' _Turning a Blind Eye_ ,' in the background. The first step was over as he remembered Erin listing how the night will go down during their ride here. And now, the next step approached –photos and questions. They walk along the blue carpet, his hand in hers and occasionally stop for a photo when one of their names is called. He notices a few well-known faces belonging to other people in politics or the entertainment industry. It's comforting to know he's not the only entertainer here tonight.

Photos continue to be captured and it's just as blinding as the photos that were taken outside but this was a part of the event, they were paid to take these photos by the host. Jay's arm remains wrapped around her waist and she turns in his embrace to brush her lips across his cheek, providing the photographers with photo ops that didn't come often. Eventually she steps out of his arms and the two of them get solo photos taken of them.

Erin moves along until she's called forward for questioning. The camera is on her, the interviewer is in front holding up a microphone and eagerly waiting to ask the first daughter questions, "Good evening Ms. Voight, you are looking beautiful as always."

She glances down at her outfit –a simple pencil skirt with a white blouse tucked in- before looking back up, "Thank you. And please, call me Erin."

"Erin," the woman says her name as if she's rehearsed it many times in front of a mirror, "I follow you on all social media platforms and I see you've been posting about how much you were looking forward to tonight. What was it about ' _Turning a Blind Eye_ ' that has you attending?"

"Garrett is absolutely one of my favorite public speakers and when his book was released a few months ago, I bought it, read it within a week and then looked for an event he was scheduled to speak at and I discovered this one and I've been looking forward to it ever since," she looks from the interviewer to the camera, "if you haven't read the book, I suggest you do just that. It is the essence of a just society, of a world where everyone speaks out against racial inequality and unjust circumstances. You must see that silence condones violence. Speaking out, like Garrett is doing today is just the start and I want to be a part of that."

"Do you see yourself writing a book in your future?"

She chuckles, "I've thought about it, but I don't really have the time. Between work, charity functions, fundraisers and speaking events, there just doesn't seem to be much time in the day."

"And you're a paid public speaker yourself?" Erin nods for the woman to continue, "How did you get into the role?"

As Jay listens to her, the way she annunciates her words and properly responds to questions, he finds himself admiring her even more. She's such a good speaker. She's down to earth, educated and compassionate about everything she talks about. He listens to the interviewer ask follow up questions and his girl answers them with ease. He's in her element and he finds himself enjoying it; he's not the center of attention, everyone's eyes aren't focused on him and it's a welcomed break –for once.

At some point during the interview, Erin reaches for his hand and brings him to her side. The question had been about what she's most looking forward to tonight when she realized that he wasn't by her side. He had been a few feet behind her trying to not steal her thunder. When she pulls him in closer, it does earn the interviewer's attention but the lady makes no mention of it, she simply moves along with her questioning and poses the next one to the first daughter.

Erin continues to answer with ease, throwing in a few jokes here and there as she naturally leans into his side. He's receptive to her small token of PDA. Jay instead kicks it up a notch; he gently raised her hand to bring it to his lips. The camera recording Erin as she answers the question catches it; it records his lips lightly brushing across the top of her hand. It's a sweet kiss of adoration. It's respectable enough for the public eye and it lays claim upon her without tarnishing her image. It's an act of kindness; one could argue the gentle kiss to the hand represented their friendship while others could pose an argument that it represented his love for her. This act draws in the interviewer's attention, "Mr. Halstead," he's on alert when she calls his name, "you're Erin's plus one. Have you been looking forward to tonight's event?"

Jay had respectfully answered in a way that stuck as close to the truth as possible, masking his lack of interest in the event with jokes and sarcasm. The interviewer has one more follow up question for him and he answers it with ease; it was related to his career and any question related to his band he felt confident enough to address.

When they walk along, finding comfort that the whole process was over with and the media's attention was now on the next known guests being escorted to the rope, their shoulders relax. The strain leaves and Jay brings his arm back around her shoulders, "I must admit I was a little nervous about this whole process. I expected them to ask personal questions."

"They're not paid to," she responds, noticing her guards waiting for them at the door, "they have to ask as many questions in their allotted time. They're told not to ask personal questions because if they do, it's possible the event may not hire them back. We, as guests, pay for these tickets and the host wants us to return, if we're asked personal or uncomfortable questions, the chance that we'll continue to support the event diminishes. And besides, some of us are known," she nods her head towards some key figures in society, "and some are us aren't," she nods her head towards majority of the people getting their tickets scanned to enter.

This event was opened to the public and once the tickets were on sale many civilians purchased them. Garrett was a hot topic; he was well-known for how his speeches captivate the audience. And fortunately for the public, they didn't have to be subjected to the paparazzi, the paid photographers and the interviews. They were able to walk through, scan their tickets and find their seats without anyone shouting their names, shoving cameras in their faces or trying to ask them questions; Erin couldn't help but be a little envious.

The host–not the speaker of the night- stands at the door, waiting to greet the first daughter as she approaches. He's absolutely head over heels excited to see her. Once she approaches, his hands are on her shoulders and he's air kissing both cheeks, "I'm so glad you could make it."

"I wouldn't have missed this for the world."

His hands slide down her shoulders until they grasps her hands, "I reserved a special seat for you. And afterwards I have every intention of introducing you to Garrett."

"You didn't have to do that, Henry."

"Oh, but I did," he pulls her close, practically throwing himself at her and earning a disgruntled eye roll from her plus one, "if you're happy, I'm happy. And I always want to keep the attendees happy. Now I'll just show you to where you'll be sitting."

The host, Henry, took the lead, setting his hand gently on Erin's lower back to steer her in the direction of the reserved seating. Erin threw a quick look over her shoulder at Jay; he notices and simply falls behind with her guards, following at a safe distance. Henry was moving pretty quick, guiding her through the crowd as he waved to various people standing off to the side. It was hard for her to keep up. The heels on her feet weren't that comfortable and she had already stumbled outside, she didn't need to do it indoors too. The auditorium was a large, circular arena and when Erin spots the stage a large distance away, she knows that she'll be walking in the shoes for some time. Maybe she could take them off and carry them? But, then she'll have to hear about how unladylike she is from news outlets.

Henry continued to steer her through the crowd, whispering irrelevant information in her ear about each well-known attendee. She didn't need to know the mayor's son was here because he was trying to impress a girl. She couldn't care less that an outdated actress was here to build up her career through the appearance of being for the people. And she didn't want to know that the brother of a senator was here to save face after a nasty rumor spread out about his family's lack of respect for diversity. She just wanted to get to her seat, kick off her heels, maybe share a few words with her boyfriend and then watch the speech. Unfortunately, Henry's name is called by another well-known attendee and that vision quickly disappeared when he pulled her to a stop.

Jay obviously didn't like him. That was clear as day. Her guards could see it. If you asked Henry, he honestly probably could see it. With the way Jay is watching Henry introduce her to the speaker's wife, if looks could kill would probably be a sufficient phrase. He was annoyed. And he couldn't hide it. Jay remained a few feet away, wanting to keep distance between him and Henry as he watched the host finally remove his hand from around his girlfriend's waist in order to grip the shoulders of Garrett's wife and air kiss her cheeks. It was comforting to him to see that he greeted her the exact same way he greeted Erin. Maybe he's just a natural flirt and has no real interest in her…

While Jay remained standing in the aisle, waiting for them to finish talking, her guards continued to move, heading towards their assigned positions near the emergency exit that is closest to their reserved seats. He was alone, hands in his pockets and rocking back and forth on his feet as he patiently waited. Occasionally Erin would look over her shoulder to see him and her apologetic eyes alleviated his irritation. She looked almost annoyed as he did, but unlike him, she had to remain professional. Erin cast a smile towards Garrett's wife, chimed in every once in a while and then finally the conversation was over and Henry was hurrying her along again with his hand finding its placement once again against her lower back.

Soon enough Jay and Erin are seated beside each other in the front row. Henry had run along to most likely bother someone else of equal prestige. With her legs crossed and heels off her feet, she sits comfortably beside her boyfriend as the seats within the auditorium begin to fill. Her clutch rests on her lap and her hands toy with the zipper of it until his large hand covers hers; she looks up and smiles, "Thank you."

"For what…" Because honestly he didn't think he did anything.

She flips her hand so their palms are interlocked; she spreads her fingers so his will intertwine with hers, "For coming as my date, for being patient and kind and not snapping Henry's neck."

"You picked up on that?"

"Yeah, I did. I thought your jealousy was pretty hot."

"I wasn't jealous," he clarifies.

"Of course you weren't," her free hand comes to pat his cheek, "you only wanted to wring Henry's neck for what reason exactly?"

"The guy is so handsy."

"And I'm expected to believe international playboy Jay Halstead has never gotten _handsy_?"

"…not with someone else's girlfriend."

Erin quirked a seductive brow and this time she found herself bringing his hand up to her mouth and resting the back of it against her lips. She maintains eye contact with him throughout the exchange. And she notices his eyes darken and his body shift in his seat; his mouth is dry and he's forced to swallow hard as he attempts to settle the growing urge in his body. Erin knows what she's doing to him; she couldn't help it if her boyfriend was hot when he was flustered. Hot actually didn't do him justice as he looked at her with wanting eyes. Hunky, sexy, god-like, and ripped –those terms were of a much better description. He sat beside her dressed in business casual clothing, and she would have killed to just reach over and loosen the tie around his neck and maybe unbutton a few buttons from the top of his purple shirt. Erin took a look at his brunette hair and the slight shadow of a beard on his face; she would never ask for him to shave. It defined the strong features on his face and she desperately wanted to just reach out, trail her fingers across the stubble, say screw the audience and just take him right here in front of everyone. But, no matter how much she wanted to give in to her feelings for Jay, she had to fight them.

Out of some sort of self-preservation, Erin ripped her eyes away from him and stared forward. He saw it though; he caught the way she looked at him, the way she was sizing him up, licking her bottom lip and eyeing him as if she is actually considering grabbing his hand and pulling him out of the emergency exit to hook up with him in the back alley of the building. She releases his hand and brings her hand up to run through her ponytail.

"So what else should I expect?"

She appreciates the redirection of conversation, "Well the speaker will be introduced by Henry," she notices the roll of his eyes as she continues, "and then he'll come out, talk for around an hour and then Henry will come back to say some closing remarks. Afterwards, we'll go backstage and meet Garrett and then we'll head on out."

"And go where?"

Her cheeks turn a shade of red, "…back to my place."

"And do what?"

Before Erin could provide an answer, Garrett's wife –Diane- takes a seat in the empty chair beside her and Henry comes out to begin the lengthy and in-depth introduction of Garrett Frazier and when the man of the hour enters, everyone stands to clap. Erin takes a little longer than everyone because she has to slide her heels back onto her feet, but once she stands and starts to clap she notices Garrett scan the audience before finding the comforting eyes of his wife. It was sweet; the smile that appeared on Diane's face as she watched her husband was heartwarming.

When they retake their seats, the heels come back off. Garrett dives right into his speech, captivating the audience with his assertive thoughts and opinions, voicing his concerns, experiences and problems relating to the racial inequality present in today's social climate. He goes into vivid details, highlighting the impact it has and what we can do to promote equality and justice. Erin takes mental notes, feeling empowered and wanting to start now to make a difference in this world, in this country. She finds herself occasionally looking over to gauge Jay's reaction and he appears engrossed by Garrett's words and when the speaker starts to talk about his book, making points and references to what he has already written and majority of the audience has already read, Jay finds himself jotting down the book title, sending the text off to Burgess and Mouse to see if they've read it or if they owned a copy.

Erin smiled, sensing what he was doing and reached over to grab his hand, "You can borrow my copy if you want."

A nod of the head is all the indication she needed before turning her attention back to Garrett. And it seemed like the allotted time he had to speak went by; he was approaching the end, closing out his speech by informing people where they can get his book and offering free pamphlets and material on organizations that have dedicated themselves to fighting racial injustices. When he waves for his wife to come onto the stage, he gives her a public thank you, one that is filled with the kindest words and the sweetest promises; he dedicated it all to her and Diane thanked him with a kiss. They were an adorable middle-aged couple and Erin could only hope that she had what they had with each other by the time she reached their age. She looked over to Jay who is currently distracted on his cell, most likely responding to Burgess or Mouse.

His fingers were flying across the screen and he was grinning ear to ear at whatever someone had said through text message. She was curious to know, but she didn't want to pry. If he wanted to share, he would. And Erin left it at that, turning back to face the stage.

When Garrett and Diane depart the stage, disappearing behind the curtain, everyone stands and provides him with a standing ovation. The host comes out, seconds later, and keeps his closing remarks brief; he basically thanks everyone for coming out and tells them to drive safe, before waving his farewell. Jay pockets his cell and turns to face Erin, "Do we go over to your guards?"

"Not yet," she answers, nodding towards the approaching host.

"Are you ready to meet Mr. Frazier?" Jay rolls his eyes at Henry's eagerness.

Erin slides her feet back into her heels, "Are you serious? I was born ready for this." The host offers the first daughter his hand and he pulls her to her feet and that same hand comes to wrap itself around her waist.

"Hey man," Jay rises to his feet, "I got this," he gives the host a mocking wink, one of pure pride and smugness as he walks to the side of his girlfriend.

Jay carefully pulls Erin towards him and his hand comes to circle around her waist. Henry appears surprised and shrugs off his obvious declaration of possessiveness. Erin just smiled. She knew he was jealous. And her guards, as they walk over, share a grin and provide her boyfriend with a nod of approval. Henry doesn't pick up on any of it; all he seems to do is wave for them to follow him as he leads them through a door, down a hallway and then into a smaller room.

"Mr. Frazier," Henry calls out, alerting the speaker and his wife to their arrival, "this is Erin Voight, she is the-"

"I know who she is Henry," Garrett asserts, releasing his wife's hand to extend it towards her, "it's nice to officially meet you."

"I can't believe I'm shaking your hand," she whispers; Jay chuckles. It's not every day you see someone of Erin's importance fangirling over a public speaker, "this is my boyfriend, Jay."

"It's nice to meet both of you," he turns to shake Jay's hand.

"…trust me, the pleasure is all ours," Erin exclaimed.

"I take it you enjoyed my speech."

"That might be the biggest understatement of the century," Erin asserted with a childlike gleam in her eyes; she had been so absorbed by the topic she couldn't stop herself from rambling, "I thought you made many valid points and I loved the references you drew from your book. It was eye-opening and it put a lot of things in perspective, especially the point you made about how race isn't just a social issue, it's a political one too. It's one that cannot be ignored. I also found myself surprised by the statistics you listed on the racial inequality in wage, education, incarceration and housing."

"You know what," Garrett says as he reaches into his suit pocket and withdraws his business card, "I like you Erin. And unfortunately, I have a flight to catch early in the morning and kids to get back to, but I am definitely interested in hearing your opinion and maybe possibly working with you in the near future," he hands her his card, "If you're ever in Seattle, please stop by my office. Maybe we can hold a rally or rent out a venue to raise awareness on what really matters. I also wouldn't mind getting a quote or two from you for my next book; I can use you as a source."

The cat has gotten Erin's tongue. She's unable to speak as she carefully sets the card inside of her clutch. She's frozen, only a low murmur expressing her thanks is given before Jay leads her away, meeting up with her guards near the back exit.

"Are you alright?" Atwater's concern is etched across the creases in his forehead.

"I am better than alright."

"Well I hate to be the bearer of bad news," Dawson walks over, pulling out the car keys, "but it's pouring rain outside. And there's a flash flood warning in the next hour so we should be getting you home so we can get home."

Erin silently nods, still frozen in thought as they lead her out of the exit. They're trying to rush; she's walking, partially unthawing from her surprised state. Garrett Frazier wanted to possibly work with her in the future. She has always respected his career since she read his first book a few years ago. At some point during the trek through the pouring rain, Jay grabs her hand, directing her zombie-like form through the puddles of water. He opens the back door for her and helps her climb in, and by the time she's buckled up in her seat, she's out of her trance.

"Garrett Frazier said he liked me," she mutters through the silence of the car ride.

Atwater and Roman sit across from her and they each take turns meeting her eyes. She wasn't talking to anyone specifically so she didn't mind who responded.

"I can't blame him," Jay reaches over to intertwine his fingers with hers.

"Thank you again for coming with me, Jay," she shifts in her seat to face him, "I probably wouldn't have had as much fun if I came by myself."

"You met Garrett, I think your night would have been just as fun if you came by yourself," he chuckled.

"You underestimate how much I enjoyed your company."

"Excuse me Erin," Dawson chimed in from the driver's seat; she looks up to meet his eyes, "am I dropping Jay off at his hotel or are you both going back to your place?"

"He's coming back to my place," she answers, looking to Jay to make sure he's okay with it, "when the rain calms down some, I'll either get the on duty guard to drop him off or I'll call a taxi for him."

The ride back to her place was surprisingly longer than usual, with the pounding rain outside, her guard had to drive much slower to ensure a safe ride. With the crackle of thunder and the occasional shot of lightening ripping through the sky, large raindrops continue to fall from above beating against the windows of the truck. Erin sinks further into her seat and reaches for his hand, holding it tight as a way to reassure her racing heart that they'll be fine.

-x-

The sun had disappeared after falling behind a sky full of gray clouds. Thick, rain clouds turned the sky into a black, ghostly canvas surrounding the people below with a dark atmosphere that would usually be filled with sunshine at this time of day. Thunder suddenly rips across the sky; the powerful roars of thunder awaken everything within earshot. Lightning follows seconds after a shot of thunder rumbles through the city; it starts to lighten every few seconds. The shadowy sky illuminates with every flash of lightning before disappearing and returning the sky to its darkness. The thunder continues to boom, the lightning flashes and the rain drops, the pressure and the speed of every person outside to get indoors increases.

It rained; they're soaking wet, hair and clothes dripping and creating puddles inside the lobby of the building where she resides. Her guards watch her from the vehicle until she's safely inside. It was time for them to head home and she found no reason for them to escort her indoors when the night guard was most likely outside of her residence and has already given her condo a walk through. She just wished them safe travels and told them she would see them in the morning.

Erin repeatedly presses her finger against the up button as if it'll make the elevator come faster. It doesn't work. It takes its usual time which really isn't that long. As she stands, patiently waiting a shiver rips through her body, "I just sent Capp, he's my nightshift guard, a text asking him to go inside and turn the heat on in my place. I am freezing."

He throws his arm around her shoulders and draws her into his chest, "Am I not hot enough for you?"

"You're so corny," she chuckles.

The couple enters the elevator and he presses the button for her floor. And once the doors close, separating them from everyone else, he turns to watch her. She's standing near the back, leaning against the railing sporting a seductive grin as her teeth bite down against her bottom lip. Her white blouse was soaked at the top, revealing her pink lace bra straps through the shirt. He attempted to take his eyes off of her, but she looked gorgeous. His eyes trailed down her body, starting at her face and ending at her yellow painted toes. He didn't even realize that she had been holding her heels and she was walking barefoot through the pristine building.

Before he could reach out and react, the doors opened and she was out of his line of sight. She glided towards her door and stopped in front of a man that Jay didn't know, "Hi Capp."

"Hey Erin," he greeted, "I did as you asked. It should warm and toasty in there."

"Thank you so much," she normally would have given him a hug, but she was soaking wet and she chose to spare him from damp clothing, "Oh and Capp, this is Jay, my boyfriend."

"It's nice to meet you."

"Likewise," Jay nodded.

Capp opened up her front door and closed it after they entered, returning to his post until he was relieved of his duty in the morning.

Once the warm temperature hit her, the shiver disappeared. She dropped her heels to the ground and continues further into her home. Jay stays close, watching and following her, willing to go as far as she wanted tonight. She led him into her kitchen and reached to grab a packet of hot chocolate; it's one of those nights that called for it.

"You know," she shakes the packet in her hand, "the rain sounds like it has picked up. It might be a little dangerous for you to leave later." Jay moved closer as she continued, "It might be safer for you to just stay the night."

Jay's hand rested at her hip, "Was that your plan all along?"

"Maybe…" she turned around in his arms and smiled cleverly at the fact that she had him wrapped around her little finger and they haven't even slept with each other yet, "that's a possibility."

Jay removed the unopened packet of hot chocolate and tossed it back onto the counter as his other hand came up to move a strand of hair that had fallen out of her ponytail and dangled in front of her face behind her ear, "Are you sure that's what you want?"

Her breath hitches; she's unable to find her voice. Instead she chooses to kiss him, silencing whatever thought threatened to come out and answering his question at the same time. Did she want this? Yes. At this moment, she wanted this more than anything.

For someone with such a large kitchen, it didn't feel like they had enough room. Her back hit against the counter and she channeled that sharp pain into something more feral. Her hands wandered around his body, unwilling to remain pressed against his chest as they did moments ago; her teeth tore at his bottom lip yanking it downwards and her body flushed up against him, so close that she could feel just how aroused this made him. Erin didn't want to, but since her lungs were burning for air, she had to pull away. And she bit her bottom lip once she heard him clear his throat in an attempt to mask a groan. He didn't want to pull away either.

No words were spoken. Her intense gaze looked into his dark eyes; he wanted this, he wanted this more than anything. And silently she began unbuckling his belt, unable to contain her impatience and her need to finally have him. His pants fell to the floor; "Jay…" her voice was so low he doesn't even know if she actually said anything. He wasn't even naked and she was already impressed. She watched as he stepped out of his pants and the second he looked back up to catch her wanting gaze, she was kissing him again, landing the sloppiest, ardent and incessant kisses along his lips, the corner of his mouth, his cheek, his eye, any and everywhere.

"Erin," he panted between the kisses she was laying across his face. Her name coming from his mouth only draws her in closer; she brings her lips back to his and seals the two together. He takes charge of the kiss, his hands wandering along the outline of her figure. He tilts his head to kiss her harder, swiping his tongue over her bottom lip and passionately moaning when it elicits some noise in the back of her throat. The noise comes again when his tongue dips into her mouth, stroking and dancing with hers in a synchronized motion.

He moans into her mouth as he continues to kiss her, hoisting her skirt higher and higher in his fists, "Are you sure about this?"

"Yes, don't stop." She definitely wanted this. And she was certainly sure about this. Erin's teeth nip at his bottom lip, giving a slightly aggressive tug to show him just how much she needed this.

"Holy fuck," His irrepressible reaction, his adulterated word choice brings a satisfying smirk across her face. She gripped his shirt and ripped it open, uncaring that a few of the buttons popped off and fell to her floor. She'll just buy him a new shirt; this is worth it.

Jay yanks the fabric of her shirt from outside of the waistband of her skirt and carefully unbuttons each button on her blouse until it's fully opened and he has a clear image of her pink bra. He's being so careful, so gentle and it's driving her crazy. She doesn't want it to be slow; she's had enough of slow, she wants hard, fast and mind-blowing.

"You know I'm not a virgin, right? I won't break."

It was as if that was all the permission he needed because once those words left her mouth, he was back on her with one goal in mind –strip her of the clothing barrier that prevents his hands from touching her skin. Erin allowed him to slide the sleeves of the blouse down her shoulders until it drops to the floor. He goes for the zipper of her skirt, slides it until it loosens and then shimmies it down her waist until it falls to her feet, allowing her to step out of it, leaving her nude before him, except for the matching pink undergarments she was wearing. His hands were back on her skin in seconds, moving over her ribs, her toned stomach and down her hips.

"Jay," Erin moaned, her back arching, "I've never…felt like this. It's never…been like this." And that was the truth; she's no virgin but all the guys before him were never like him, like this.

Good. He certainly hoped it didn't. The thought of someone else doing this, touching her, kissing her, already brought up some feelings he didn't want to think about too thoroughly.

"You need to lose this," she asserts, reaching for the waistband of his boxer briefs, "now."

"There's no going back if we do this," he mumbles against her lips, feeling the hard push of his boxer briefs as they fall to his feet, "Everything will change."

"Fuck me," she states matter of fact.

"That's the plan."

Jay took a second to admire the gorgeous woman standing before him. And she does just the same, watching as the opened purple button-up shirt drops to the ground. He stands completely in the nude, with such a sculptured chest and a god-like figure and it was all completely hers, for her. He kisses her slowly, drawing out the kiss and taking as much time as he wishes, kindling the fiercest of twinges in her body.

She's so mesmerized that she chases after his mouth and leans forward in an attempt to continue their kiss when he starts to pull away. They were still in the middle of her kitchen, but neither cared. In a frantic tangle of limbs, his pants, shoes and shirt along with her undergarments were thrown in different directions. Back in each other's arms without a second to spare, she begins backing away, pulling him with her towards her bedroom.

Erin kicks her bedroom door shut and wastes no time in progressing their night. She pushed him onto his back and she straddles his hips, facing him as he lies back on her bed. He crawled back, holding her against him; both nude and both ready to take their relationship to the next level. She sits against him, both bare and exposed to each other; her lips remain on his but she's ready for more, "Condom?"

She nods and draws her lips away from his only for him to lean forward, following after her mouth, "It's in the nightstand," he holds onto her hips as she reaches into the end table, "Got it."

Her teeth carefully tear into the foil and she slides the rubber out of its package. It's no time for slow tonight. She's waited long enough.

"Ready?" she asks, cocking her eyebrow at Jay. She didn't even wait for his answer before she grasped him firmly to roll the condom on.

All of their dates, their official relationship and their confidence that their long distance relationship would work out led to this moment. Bumping into her, spilling her beverage on her dress and offering to pay for dry cleaning was the catalyst of it all. Their moans of pleasure filled the room as she sank down onto him, taking him completely inside of her. A rock star –known bad boy, playboy, outlier to society's standards and expectations- was getting it on, having sex and dating the president's daughter –a good girl for all intents and purposes, a known philanthropist, successful lawyer and advocate for equality and justice. This woman who shined under the moonlight of the night's sky as the calming rain beat against her window, she was something else. This relationship wasn't approved by most, that's pretty much obvious through the commentators on both celebrity and political news, but in this moment, neither cared, especially as she moved slowly, keeping her arms wrapped around his neck, their foreheads pressed together and their eyes staring into the soul of the other.

For every rotation of her hips, Jay pressed a kiss to her face. As the pressure builds up, she tosses her head back and chuckles lightly when his lips begin to trail kisses down her neck.

"Jay," it's her moan that has him leveraging his hips up, meeting her with every thrust and plunge. When he nipped at her pulse point, Erin bucked against him, tightening her arms around him, clawing and scratching her nails along his back. She leans forward, burying her face in the crook of his neck, "Jay" his name coming from her mouth does something to him, something that he's never felt before, sparking something within him that no one has ever been able to arouse.

The speed in which she rode him increased, sending strands of her hair falling out of her messy ponytail. Her warm breath hitched irregularly against the nape of his neck when he met her thrust for thrust. His hands were on her ass, lifting her up to flush her body against his and the action nearly causes her heart to hammer out of her chest. She bit down against his shoulder in an attempt to silence her moans of pleasure; she didn't want to be too loud, Capp was just outside her condo standing guard, he was trained to have ears like a hawk and she couldn't afford for the guy to hear.

Jay's hand traced up and down her bare back in a soft and affectionate way, "You're so beautiful," he whispers into her ear.

Erin sighed into the words as her eyes closed; she braces her hands on his chest for support and pulls her face away from his neck in order to rest her forehead against his. This was more than what it was worth; he was hers, her guy, her man and the person she hoped to be with long-term. Her eyes opened back up just to shut again; she was too weak to keep them open, the feeling was just too good and overpowering to keep her eyes ajar.

When she regrouped and opened her eyes though, she saw his intense gaze watching her, looking at her like she was absolutely everything and more. Beneath the palms of her hands, she felt his muscles tense. She couldn't control the grin that stretched across her face, knowing that she had him so close to losing control, succumbing to an inevitable release.

Jay's in absolutely no state of mind to control himself, his wandering hand gripping her brunette hair and his lips, struggling to move properly against hers. But, when he feels the vibrations of her mouth, the quivering of them, the shake they offer against his that emits a moan from her pink lips, has him crashing. His hold around her tightens; his back held up and supported by the backboard of her bedframe, and it is in that moment that he feels her tighten, the coils of passion and pleasure tensing to a point in his groin, pushing him closer and closer to the edge every time she moves –side to side, up and down- thrusting him inside of her more and more with each act.

It's intense. That may not be the right word for it, maybe passionate or sensual or possibly even erotic. All of those feelings coupled with the hard, fast rhythm he set until they were both falling apart. When he falls from such a blissful high, his vision is blurred; it's harder than he can recall, deeper than he's ever been and his hands slide across her hips, gripping them and digging his nails into her flesh, wanting to hold her in place and refuse to loosen his grip even as their pulse of pleasure begins to subside.

Foreheads pressed together, with him still inside of her, she kissed him.

His vision clears of its hazy, lust-filled gaze. He feels every breath she takes; her chest flushed against his own and with every inhale and exhale, he could feel her chest rising and falling. Her nose skims tenderly across his skin and he swallows hard, struggling to inhale enough oxygen to speak, "Erin," he groans at the loss of connection the second she pulls off of him.

Erin remains speechless, too out of breath to respond to him. Instead, when he returns from disposing of the condom in the trashcan in her bathroom, she crawls into his arms. They're laying back, his head against the pillow and her cheek lies against his chest as she continues to collect her breath. A smile, one that feels pretty permanent, lines itself along her face as she finally finds her voice to speak, "I see why you're such a hot commodity among women," she murmured as his fingers ran caressingly along her arm, "I'm glad your hooking up days are over," she admits, feeling him pull the covers over their bodies, "because I'm definitely not interested in sharing."

He brushes his lips across her forehead, lingering them just above her eyebrow, "That's good to know, because I'm not interested in being shared."

Erin nods against his bare chest, silently taking in the aftermath of their lovemaking. Soon enough, she catches her breath even more and shifts up onto her elbow so she can stare down at him, "Do you mean that?"

"I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it."

She peers down at him, tracing her fingers along the outline of the small smile gracing his lips, "I know…it's just, this is so new and considering your history…"

"Hey," he brushes his knuckles against the apple of her cheek, "if we're going to do this, you can't doubt me. If I didn't want to be in a relationship with you, I wouldn't be here," dimples appear in her cheeks when she smiles at his words, "A guy deserves some credit. I left my band to fly here and make this relationship official with you."

"You did," she nodded, turning her head to press her lips against his hand that rest against her cheek, "and I'm glad you did. I'm really glad."

The genuine smile she gives him reaches her eyes.

And suddenly, Erin squeals loudly, currently not caring who heard –including Capp- as Jay suddenly rolls them over, pinning her beneath him. She was happy, -truly, genuinely and positively happy- even as she pulled him down for continued kisses. He had seen where she kept the box of condoms and without stretching too far over, he clips another one, tearing into the package with his teeth and dropping the rubber onto her bare flesh as she scoops it up to sheath it upon him. His lips, teeth and tongue moving against the skin of her neck as she does so; and once he's covered and she's protected, they don't waste another minute as he thrusts back inside of her to carry out another round of chasing bliss.

Pushing inside of her, while burying his face into the crook of her neck, her legs wrapped around his waist, locking at the ankle and pulling him in closer. Thrust for thrust, he speeds up his movement. The bottom of her twisted ankles pushes into his lower back, encouraging the faster pace and matching him for each plunge. Erin sucked in a large breath and gasped as he pushed her closer and closer towards the edge. She barely had a chance to cool off since their last time and at this rate, if he kept it up, she was going to be sore in the morning. She can't remember the last time she's been sore because of this –it's been entirely too long. Erin bites down onto his shoulder, using his flesh to suppress her moans.

She knew he was whispering something in her ear but she was too out of it, the pleasure was too strong for her to focus on what he was saying. And just like before, the two eventually fall over the edge, arriving to that blissful state of happiness together, only choosing to succumb to exhaustion and fatigue a few minutes after he rolls from on top of her.


	9. First Impressions

In the peninsula kitchen with an island overlooking the living room, Erin doesn't hear or notice him immediately; her back is turned as she fiddles with the stovetop. As it appears, her attention is divided between starting her barely used stove and a very elaborately gesturing woman sitting atop a stool positioned behind a kitchen island. One leg draped over the other with a fork waving around in her hand as she continues her tirade, "And then Charlie demanded I let him see Travis since he served his time in prison! He actually made a demand of it Erin! I mean, what right does he have to make demands like that? Travis barely knows him and he actually wanted me to leave my 12 year old son with him while I visit you for a few days! That's crazy! That's absurd! That's –oh," she cuts herself off as she notices the presence of a third party, "Oh," she hops up off the stool, "you must be Jay, I'm Annie, Erin's friend! It's nice to finally meet you."

"It's nice to meet you too."

Erin turns to face them –her best friend and her boyfriend- as they shake hands, her eyes immediately lighting up the moment they meet his. She doesn't speak though; she merely turns back to fiddle with the stove, "Stupid thing," she mutters.

As he walks further into the kitchen, he spots a carton of eggs and an uncooked pack of bacon on the countertop, "What are you trying to do?"

"Don't laugh at me, but I can't seem to turn this thing on," Her lips were pursed together in an unbreakable concentration and her eyes were focused on the knobs of the stove.

"How long have you lived here?"

"…a few years," Erin answered, "why?"

"You've never turned your stovetop on?"

"I have, but I just get lucky sometimes."

When he approaches, closing in the space separating them, Jay makes sure to press a kiss to the side of her head as he leans forward to easily turn on the stove. He lingers; his nose buries into her hair, inhaling the scent of her shampoo, "I thought going to bed with you kind of implied I would wake up with you."

"You'll have plenty of chances to wake up next to me," she whispers, keeping her voice low so her friend wouldn't pick up on their private conversation.

Jay's hands found her hips. Erin wore nothing but his shirt; her hair up in a loose bun and out of her face, leaving her neck and the mark he left upon it exposed to the world. Since Wednesday night –the day they first slept with each other- they had locked themselves in her condo, only venturing out on Thursday morning to Jay's hotel so he could grab a few change of clothes. And now, Friday morning, Erin wanted a repeat of the day before, a day of staying indoors, ordering takeout, watching movies, making out and having sex throughout the expanse of her home. But, that plan was abandoned the second her brother sent her a text, reminding her of dinner with their parents tonight and the moment Annie called her from the airport because apparently Erin forgot to send someone to pick her up. She had honestly forgotten, with Jay here and providing a good distraction, you couldn't blame her for letting it slip from her mind.

Erin turns in his embrace, her hands rubbing up and down his arms as she gives him one of the most innocuous grins, "I want to ask you for a favor."

"Anything…"

"You don't even know what it is yet."

Jay chuckled, his mouth moving down to cover Erin's in a brief, chaste kiss, "Alright babe, what's the favor?" His arms are wrapped around her waist and his hands rest against her back, fiddling with the fabric of his plaid shirt that she's comfortably wearing.

"Okay, you and I both know I probably will never be the next Rachael Ray."

"I'm aware…"

"And you and I both know that I really like you."

A little smile graces his lips; it only last for a moment, but it's a moment that fills him with a sense of gratitude and tranquility, "I like you too."

"And because I like you, I want to spare you of the toxicity that's most likely present in my cooking," he chuckles at her word choice while putting together the pieces of her favor.

"So I'm guessing you want me to make breakfast."

"Well, since you offered…"

The laugh that fell from his lips reached his eyes; the joy encompassed in his orbs locked in her gaze and made the steady beat of her heart flutter. There were few things she found herself unwilling to do just to hear that laugh, see the contentment in his eyes and the genuine smile on his face. She brings her hand up to his face and uses her fingers to trace the smile lines running along the side of his nose to meet with the corner of his mouth.

"I have a feeling that I'm going to soon be surpassing the amount of times you've cooked in your own kitchen," he whispered.

And instead of waiting for a response, Jay barely brushes his lips against her forehead; his hand running through her messy hair, wildly styled by the passionate –slow, fast, rough, soft- sex that kept them up for most of the night.

Jay trailed his lips along her jawline before bringing them towards their final destination –her mouth. She grinned just as he kissed her, such a small peck turning into something dangerous. If they didn't stop, Annie would surely be getting a view that she would rather pass on seeing. Her longtime friend, the woman who had seen her at her best and stood by her at her worst without so much as flinching or scurrying away was now sitting awkwardly at the kitchen island looking at everything besides the happy couple.

Annie decides to slip away, grabbing her suitcase to take it to one of the guestrooms. She did kind of just drop in on their honeymoon phase, the sweet beginning of a relationship, before arguments and drama starts to drip into the folds. The untainted stage of their romance, that honeymoon phase of dating is so innocent, pure and fresh and Annie didn't want to intrude, especially knowing how much her friend _really_ liked her new rock star. It's that period of time in dating where your significant other appears to be perfect, no arguing, just intense feelings of physical and personal attraction.

As Erin opens her mouth, granting Jay complete access, she finds herself lost in the moment. She doesn't even realize that Annie left the room, but she's grateful nonetheless, especially as Jay's hand drifts down the fabric of the shirt she's wearing, longingly gliding his fingers across the cotton of her underwear. He steals her breath, leaves her weak in the knees and unsteady on her feet. And just as soon as the moment heated up, it cooled down.

She groans suddenly, "Really?"

"I'm on cooking duty, remember?"

Erin sighs, turning around in his embrace to face the stove. The burner had heated up and a pan sat atop it, waiting to be filled with their breakfast ingredients. She remains in his embrace, his hands back on her hips as she reaches and grabs an egg out of the carton, "You can always teach me. If I recall correctly, I was a pretty good student when you taught me how to make pizza."

"You were," he agreed, tightening his embrace around her, "you were the perfect student."

"Now you're just rubbing my ego…"

He sensually kissed the top of her shoulder, "you were the best student," he whispered, dragging his lips across her collarbone, "an amazing student," he grins when a soft moan escapes her lips, "my favorite student," her head tilts to the side, exposing her neck more to him, "unparalleled to all," she leans back against his chest as he kisses her harder, biting against her flesh and pressing his lips against her skin until he's satisfied with the tint of discoloration, "Simply exceptional babe," one last loving kiss is pecked against her shoulder before he pulls away.

Annie makes her way back into the kitchen, sighing in relief when she notices that their private moment was over. She was no longer the third wheel. Jay was cracking eggs into a bowl as the bacon cooked on the stove. Erin watches over his shoulder, mentally taking notes as he prepares the eggs. At one point she even attempts to crack an egg into the bowl, although unsuccessful because a few egg shells fell in, he never once complained, only complimenting her ability as he scoops the shells out. Annie admired that; she admired them.

While Annie was hesitant about this relationship at first, always in Erin's ear when they spoke on the phone warning her away from the rock star playboy, worrying that it'll only lead her friend to an inevitable broken heart, but watching them now, at the way Jay is looking at Erin, smiling, laughing at some of her not so funny jokes and patiently assisting her in the simple task of whisking eggs, it seems that maybe Erin was right, maybe a tiger truly can change his stripes.

She finds herself dazing longingly in their direction. Her elbow propped up on the kitchen island and her chin resting in the palm of her hand. She sighs, unknowingly alerting Erin to her presence, "Oh good Annie you're back," her chipper –and obviously in a great mood- friend exclaims, "sorry that you couldn't finish, but I'm all ears now. Continue…"

Erin was true to her word; she handed the whisk over to Jay for him to resume mixing the eggs along with the ingredients he added to them, blending each element to create the perfect taste. He goes to flip the bacon as he's distracted by cooking –and somewhat a little miffed at losing his favorite student- she ventures towards the kitchen island, standing opposite of Annie.

"There's no need to apologize," Annie shrugged it off, leaning both elbows onto the kitchen island; "I actually enjoyed watching you two."

"Yeah, because that's not creepy at all," Erin was leant forward against the counter, ankles crossed and arms folded above the countertop. A sly smirk crossed her features, one telling that she was simply joking in her remark.

"Okay, so anyway Travis is staying with my mother," Annie picks up right where she left off earlier, "and Charlie keeps blowing up my cell trying to find out where my son is staying. It's ridiculous. He text me 20 times before my flight took off and after I turned my phone back on after landing that 20 turned to 40," she snatches her cell out of her pocket.

Annie loads up the messages and slides her phone across the counter. Erin doesn't need to pick it up to look, she simply uses her pointer finger to scroll though the texts as she skims each message, "Have you tried blocking his number?"

"He changes it."

Erin frowns as she continues to read the texts, "What about going to the police?"

"That proved to be even more useless."

Erin quickly thinks of another alternative, "Turn your phone off."

"You know I can't do that. What if Travis needs to get in contact with me?"

"…then he can call me," Erin retorts; the frustration evident in her voice draws Jay further into the conversation. He listens as he cooks, commenting in his head but being mindful not to say his own opinion aloud. Erin doesn't even make it halfway through the messages when she slides the phone back; she's too annoyed to finish reading them, "This is ridiculous. It's been 12 years."

Annie pockets her cell, "I'm not even done yet. Charlie wants to see you."

If Jay's attention wasn't sparked before, it was definitely sparked now. He had already flipped the bacon and the eggs were whisked and ready to be poured into a pan. However, the turn of the conversation steered his attention elsewhere. He knew of Charlie; she had told him a pretty detailed account of her run in with the guy as a teenager, but what he was surprised to discover was that contact continued to be made between him and Annie. The last thing Erin had told him about the guy involved her father running him out of town.

Jay furrowed his brows as he continued to listen in, looking over his shoulder to spot the back of his girlfriend, noticing how stiff she is and how she incessantly runs her hand through her hair, "Why?" her voice had sounded so small, so fragile and so unlike the woman he met last month.

"I don't know," Annie honestly answers, "maybe he needs money, or a place to stay or a way to get into contact with Travis. He'll use you for that you know."

"I'm aware," she finds her voice again; the sound and tone returning to normal.

"If he calls you, don't answer."

"You do not have to worry about that."

"And if he visits-"

Erin interrupts before she could even continue her warning, "He doesn't know where I live."

"It doesn't take a rocket scientist to find that out. Erin, it'll take like three seconds to search your name and find out the address to this place."

"Should I remind you that there are four large men guarding my condo who are well aware of my past with Charlie?"

"Don't underestimate him Erin, please," Annie's worried tone only concerns Jay –Erin appears unaffected, "And besides, your guards are not always around."

"You worry too much."

"And you don't worry enough."

Annie's text tone filled the kitchen and against her better judgment she decides to check the message, sighing heavily when Charlie's name lit up the screen, "He keeps asking me where's Travis. He thinks I brought him down to D.C. with me. He's threatening to get on a plane," she groaned annoyingly, "What should I do? I can't keep waking up to so many fucking text messages, missed calls and voicemails."

"And you honestly shouldn't have to," Erin rolled her eyes when she read the message.

Erin became so engrossed in the text, fighting her natural instincts to respond and protect one of her oldest friends. Her fingers hovered above the screen, watching as three gray bubbles appeared implying that he was currently typing in another response. Erin had been too focused on the screen, completely overlooking her friend as she stares at the back of her boyfriend's head, "Jay," the calling of her boyfriend's name pulls her attention away from Annie's cell, "what do you think about all of this?" Her head whipped over her shoulder to gauge his reaction.

Jay had been watching. As the food cooked, he found himself just as invested in the conversation as they had been, he just wasn't prepared for his interest in the discussion to lead for Annie to try and bring him in. He saw the look on Erin's face. From over her shoulder, she watched him, a brow raised in curiosity, wondering if he would answer the question.

"I uh…" he scratched behind his ear, "I don't think it's my place to tell you what I think."

"Come on, it's alright. Please, I could use a guy's perspective."

Erin further glances at her boyfriend; the new message from Charlie is overlooked as she watches Jay consider answering Annie's question. Jay turns the burner down before flipping the bacon one last time. He sits the fork down and walks over to stand beside Erin, both leaning against the counter, arms crossed above it, "He sounds clingy and I've never been the clingy type," in his peripheral he notices Erin watching him, "I've actually never been the commitment type either so I don't know how much advice I have to offer."

Annie continues to push, unwilling to just drop it, "What about in terms of me avoiding him? I'm sure you've had to avoid a number of _women_ in your past."

"I never hand out my number and if someone does get my number I either block them or change it, though I only changed it once, it's just easier to block them."

And as if she came upon a sudden realization, Annie snatched her phone back, "That's it, thank you Jay," her eyes skim the new message from Charlie, "I'll change my number!"

"That's only a temporary fix though. He seems to be very persistent. A simple number change won't be enough."

Erin nods to back up his input, "He's right and besides we have all day to figure this out," she notices as Jay returns to the stove, preparing to take the bacon out of the pan, "I need to call my job to take off today. I had completely forgotten you were coming to town. It somehow had slipped from my mind," her eyes quickly flash towards Jay and then back to Annie, "I was distracted over the last couple of days and I'm not rushing you at all, but how long are you planning to stay?"

"Today's Friday," Annie thinks to herself, tapping her fingers along the countertop, "I'll just be staying for the weekend. Sunday afternoon I'm heading back to Chicago."

"I leave early Monday morning; you should have just put that as your return date."

"I would have but I have to see Travis off to school Monday morning so Sunday afternoon it is."

Erin nods as she moves from around the counter, heading out of the kitchen to retrieve her cell phone. She needed to get into contact with her boss to ensure she could actually take off today; she didn't want to assume that her request would be granted.

A silence falls over Annie and Jay since the one person connecting the both of them had departed back to her bedroom. The bacon had already been finished and right now Jay was scrambling the eggs in the pan, wondering to himself whether or not he should make idle chitchat. This is Erin's friend, and even though she kind of disturbed them at the worst possible moment, she was a part of his girlfriend's life and he needed to try and bridge her two worlds together. Jay sat the wooden spoon down and turned to face her, "You're staying here?"

It was a dumb question since he already knew the answer; he noticed her suitcase earlier and how she took it to one of the guestrooms down the hallway, but he honestly had no idea on what else to ask. Annie seemed to pick up on it. Her brow was raised in disbelief of his question, "Yeah," she responds curtly before expanding upon her answer, "I don't make half the salary Erin makes to afford a hotel, especially since I'm raising a growing boy who will eat me out of a home one day, but she has plenty of room so when I visit, all I need to buy is the plane ticket."

Jay turned the stovetop off once the eggs were finished, "What do you do?"

"I'm in and out of work," Annie states, gauging Jay's face for a reaction, "I do work here and there, nothing permanent, but it gets me and my son by."

"Cool," he keeps his response short and simple.

Erin reenters the kitchen, phone in hand and smiling from ear to ear. She had been able to get off today with the promise that she'll work from home for most of the next week, including when she's out of town. She walks over to the empty stool beside Annie and slides into it, "Okay, I was able to get off, so that's good news."

"That's great, so what are we going to do today?"

"We," Jay mutters, picking up on the pronoun used by Annie. She was eager to spend time with Erin, but so was Jay. He looked over to meet her eyes and she could tell what was bothering him, but Erin did kind of make plans way before she knew he was going to fly in and surprise her.

"I have dinner with my parents tonight and you're coming with me."

"What about Jay?" Annie smugly grins.

"It's not exactly the time to meet the parents," Erin responds, a small smile gracing her face when Jay nods his agreement, "He already met my brother and that didn't go too well."

"So what are we doing before the inevitable dinner with your parents?

"What did you have in mind?"

It seems that was all Annie needed to hear before listing out everything she wanted to do or at least attempt to do during her short visit. Her list consisted of cupcakes from a bakery a few blocks over, karaoke, a visit to the zoo and surprisingly laser tag.

"I guess we can fit all of that in," Erin asserts, looking over at Jay to ensure he's comfortable with all of this; she knew he didn't travel this far to have a third wheel present, "I know you flew all of this way to hang out and you definitely deserve the break. So, if that's everything you want to do, then we'll do it. Now," Erin happily clasps her hands together, "Jay made breakfast and take my word for it but he's an amazing cook. I suggest we eat up while it's warm and then we can get ready and head out."

After silently making their plates, they follow Erin into the dining room, sitting around the table and falling into a casual conversation filled with Annie sharing old memories of her and Erin together as kids. Annie's voice filled the dining room the most, talking about her son, filling Erin in on the lives of some of their childhood friends and complaining about needing to find new work. Apparently the management at her current job wasn't great. And the second there was a dull in the conversation; Erin speaks up, "Jay," he forks a spoonful of eggs into his mouth before looking over at her, "I left my copy of 'Turning a Blind Eye' out on my coffee table for you."

"Thanks."

Annie rolls her eyes; it's getting old to her now. She thought it was cute at first, kind of adorable, but it's getting old and exhausting real fast. The way Erin is drawn to him, the way she looks at him, like he hung the stars and the moon, it's sickening. For the longest, Erin had been single and that's when Annie felt like she connected to her the most. And now, she hardly recognized her. Erin's so giddy. She can barely keep her hands off of him. She's acting as if he's the only one in the room. Annie knew Erin was ready for a relationship, but she didn't peg her as desperate for one. When the happy couple resumes eating their meal, Annie decides to chime in, sparking a new topic of conversation, "When I finish I'll probably call and tell Travis if he needs to get into contact with me to call you. I'll probably get my number changed tomorrow."

Erin takes a bite out of a strip of bacon, "Next time you fly to D.C. you need to bring Travis. I'm sure he would love to explore the east coast, the nation's capital and all it has to offer."

"Travis couldn't care less about the sites; if anything, he'll come down to see how the rich people live. He would probably prefer to stay inside this huge place of yours and take advantage of every amenity this building has to offer."

Erin chuckles, "I'm afraid if I expose him to all of that he may not want to return home to you."

"Just show him that it's true then," Annie shrugs.

She frowns at her friend's comment, "That what's true?"

Annie shrugs, using her fork to move her food around her plate, "You know," she carefully says in an effort to not insult her friend, "that having money is not everything, having money can be a curse and it doesn't buy happiness."

"I don't know if I'm the best person to show that."

"Come on Erin, be realistic with me here," Annie sits up straight, dropping her fork onto her plate, "When was the last time you worried about paying rent?"

She cocks her head to the side, "What is this thing called _rent_?"

A half a second passes where both Annie and Jay think she's actually being serious, both of their eyes widening in disbelief until it's obvious by the way her teeth is biting down upon her bottom lip that she's trying –desperately, but failing- to hide a grin.

"I'm serious though Er. I want him to understand the value of a dollar. I may work paycheck to paycheck but he appreciates every meal, the roof over his head and all the small things I can get for him. I don't want that to change."

"And it won't," Erin's a tad bit insulted, "I'm no spoiled brat Annie. I didn't grow up getting everything I wanted. I grew up in an upper middleclass family, yeah, but my parents made it pretty clear to me and my brother that they were wealthy, not us."

Jay feels awkward by the shift in mood. He had already finished eating his breakfast, and so he was forced to sit, twiddling his thumbs as he looked back and forth between them as if he were watching a tennis match. Erin struggled to hide her annoyance; he could pick up on it even though her own friend couldn't. She finished off the rest of her meal, so did Annie, and he noticed that their minor argument ended almost abruptly as it had started. Jay can tell Annie has more to say, a lot of unresolved feelings that arose from a poor girl being friends with a rich girl, but she chooses to keep her mouth shut, most likely because she didn't want to ruin her trip.

Once her plate is cleared, Annie rises from her seat, throws out some excuse as to why she needs to call Travis before making her way out of the dining room.

"Tell him I said hi." Annie nods at Erin's muffled words before disappearing out of the room.

The tension left the room the same time Annie did. As a result, Erin's shoulders deflated and she blew out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Her eyes fall to Jay; he's facing her and out of the both of them, he speaks up first, "I don't think your friend likes me that much."

"I don't think she doesn't like you. I just think she has to warm up to you and us spending the day with each other is bound to do just that. She'll see why I fell for you."

"…maybe you're right," he shrugs.

"And here I thought you didn't care what people thought of you."

"I didn't," he hesitates briefly, "well I don't, okay it depends on the person. The media no, my band no, but you, yes, always yes, and of course I want your family and friends to like me. It's hard to date someone when their loved ones don't support it."

"And the same goes for me…" Erin rises to her feet and takes the few steps around the table to approach him, "I want your band to like me, which includes the one bandmate you said most likely wouldn't."

"Rixton…" he practically spits the name out.

"Yes, I want all of them, including Rixton, to like me."

Jay pulled her closer to him and in a second Erin was in his lap, "I don't care if he doesn't though. I don't need their approval; I'll still like you."

"And the same goes for me…"

He grins, wrapping his arms around her waist, tightening his hold around his shirt she was wearing, "Yeah, but you're more likeable than I am."

She rests her hand against the side of his cheek, her thumb brushing the skin beneath his ear, "Don't sell yourself short. You're direct and honest."

"While true, most would complain that those aren't particularly good traits."

"Screw them," she rolls her eyes, "you're also very confident."

"Some would say cocky."

"You're handsome."

"Now that I would agree with," he winked.

She chuckles and continues, "You have a great sense of humor, you're talented, successful and you have a career."

"One may argue it's more like a hobby."

"That you get paid to do," she finds herself defending his art, his talent.

"Touché"

"You're great in bed as evidenced by yesterday and the night before that."

"Can't argue with that one,"

"You're charming."

A cocky grin covered his features, "That I am."

There's a small distance between their faces and he closes it with the smallest, briefest and gentlest kisses he could muster. His forehead rests against hers, eyes closed as he listens to her continue her earlier assessment of him, "And not to mention you have really great judgment since you did, in fact, choose to date me, to commit to me out of all the potential women out there who would willingly kill someone to be the one to change you, to modify that naughty reputation of yours."

"You seem to be doing a pretty good job of it."

"And I cannot forget the fact that you're a great cook."

His hand moved to slide up the shirt of his she's wearing, "I can't argue with that. The food was definitely delicious; it's just not exactly what I had in mind when waking up this morning." No bra.

"And what were you expecting exactly?" Erin shivered against him.

Erin feigned innocence.

The passion that lit in her eyes lets him know that she knew exactly what he was expecting. And before he could respond to this verbal act of foreplay, she groans, before pulling him down for another kiss. Her lips crashed against his as one of her arms wrapped around his neck, anchoring herself to him as she felt his nails dig into her waist. She feels him grind his hardness against her, through the thin fabric of his plaid shirt and the cotton underwear she's wearing and that's when she makes a snap decision; they don't have much time, but she could make the most of it in the shower, like the old idiom says, it's time to kill two birds with one stone.

-x-

Erin is dressed in a fuchsia blazer, styled with a white shirt tucked in a yellow A-line skirt. A few loose gold necklaces were draped around her neck and hung loosely over her plain, white shirt. Her flats resemble the same shade as her blazer. It's been a few hours since their late breakfast. They've already went to the National Zoo and participated in karaoke in a nearby bar; laser tag was planned for tomorrow, sometime after Annie goes to get her number changed. Currently, they're standing inside of a bakery, waiting in line to order cupcakes. Each settling on a different flavor: chocolate, vanilla and strawberry.

Jay notes silently to himself that Erin pays for Annie's cupcake; she seems to pay for everything when it comes to Annie and that could be out of sympathy, kindness or just plain guilt, but whatever reason it is, she's paid for everything Annie has wanted today from food and drinks to souvenirs and admission to the more private areas of the zoo. As they go to a nearby table, he kind of wonders has it always been this way. Does Annie always guilt-trip her friend into buying her nice things? Whether she knows it or not, that's what Annie does. He picked up on it in every store they visited; how she would grab something, take it to the counter, knowing she can't afford it and sighing sadly when she realizes she has to put it back when the cashier tells her the actual price or her card gets declined. He notices the look on Erin's face, it's the same look she has every time she steps forward with her credit card and hands it over to the cashier. Annie would thank her afterwards with a promise of paying her back, but Jay knows that'll never happen. He wants to ask about it, but he knows that isn't his place. It's Erin's money and if that's how she wants to spend it, who is he to complain about it?

Yet, he's so curious. Earlier this morning, Annie complained about wealth, shedding her opinion on how money isn't everything, it can't buy happiness, yet she takes full advantage of her wealthy friend. She gets things she doesn't need: a keychain, a few touristy sweaters, a ceramic mug, a magnet and a framed photo of the DC skyline that Annie plans to mail to herself since it'll be hard to travel with it on the plane. Annie probably owns most of that stuff anyway, especially since this isn't her first time visiting Erin in the nation's capital. When their cupcakes are brought over to them, he doesn't eat his right away. Instead he stands, leans in and kisses his girlfriend, "I'll be right back. I'm just heading to the restroom." He ignores the pictures being taken of them by complete strangers. Seriously, people could try just a little harder at being inconspicuous. It's obviously apparent they're taking photos, but he pays them no mind as he heads towards the bathroom, leaving the two women alone at the table to gossip.

Erin swipes her finger against the chocolate icing before popping it into her mouth, dragging it out and sighing in satisfaction at the delicious sugary substance as Annie sits still, watching her while her hands fiddled with the decorative paper wrapped around the bottom half of her cupcake. Erin notices her gaze but says nothing. She just sits and enjoys the savory taste of her dessert as Annie works up the courage to initiate conversation, "Now that he's gone," her eyes avert towards the restroom where Jay disappeared to, "how about you lay it all on me?"

Now Erin understands her hesitance. She now knows what was taking her friend so long to bring up this specific subject of choice; she was nervous. Annie was going somewhere with this; she had a problem with Jay, that much was obvious by how she hardly talked to him, hardly tried to get to know him, attempted to put herself in between him and Erin both literally and figuratively and blatantly rolled her eyes any time he cracked a corny joke that managed to pull the biggest smile onto Erin's face. Annie didn't like him. And Erin wasn't going to feed into it, which is why she chose the simple tactic of playing dumb; "Lay what on you?"

"…the scoop."

She knows what Annie is referring to but she continues her charade anyway, "The scoop on…"

"Your relationship with Jay, what else?" Annie rolls her eyes.

"There's really nothing to tell. It's all so new, but I like him. A lot."

"Okay…" Annie edged on.

Erin's gaze met hers, "What do you think of him?" She's kind of nervous for an answer.

"He's alright," Annie shrugs her shoulders uninterestedly.

"Just alright?"

Annie finally bites into her cupcake, "I see he makes you very happy."

"I sense a but coming…"

"And that's why we're friends because you sensed correctly," Annie chuckled, wiping the strawberry icing off the bottom of her chin, "Look, we can be open and honest with each other. I just don't think he's the right guy for you."

And there it is –the truth.

Erin cocked her head and gave her a confused glance, "The right guy for me?"

"Yeah, I think this is just a phase, or you're just desperate or you're just having fun and nothing is wrong with that."

"Annie…" Erin sighs.

"Consider his reputation, Erin. Consider his lifestyle. Now, think of yours. I don't want to be the bearer of bad news, but your worlds are too different to bridge together."

"Our worlds are too, but that hasn't stopped us from being friends," Erin retorted, crossing her arms over her chest defensively

"That's different."

"How?"

"It just is," Annie snapped, "Erin, I just don't want you to fall hard for this guy and get your heart broken. I don't think he's right for you. I don't think he's a great fit. I don't think he's going to change his ways for you. I need you to be realistic here. It's early in the relationship. Once he goes back on tour, he's going to miss the bachelor life, the life of a non-committed man and I don't want you to suffer because of that."

"I won't," Erin reassured.

And Annie smiled softly, a graceful twitch of the corner of her lips, "I have no doubt in my mind that he likes you. I can tell, I'm just a little hesitant because of his reputation." She reached across the table to take a hold of Erin's hand.

"No offense Annie," Erin pats her hand soothingly, "but I don't think you're a great judge of character when it comes to men."

"It's hard not to take offense to that."

"Well it's hard to not take offense to you insinuating that me and my boyfriend won't last."

"Erin, I didn't mean it like that. All I'm just saying is I know you, almost better than you know yourself, we've been through too much together, I just don't want you to get hurt and I know he'll end up hurting you."

Annie shuts her mouth the second Jay returns to the table. He's aware he missed something –he senses it. It's pretty obvious actually. Jay slid his chair out and moved it closer to Erin; he preferred to sit closer to her than the woman currently side-eyeing him. Halstead took a seat and began peeling the paper from around the breading of his cupcake. There was no talking, there was barely any eye contact made. He definitely missed something. He sighs in relief when Annie stands to dispose of the wrapper around her cupcake and Jay uses her departure to his advantage, "Are you alright?"

Erin doesn't answer since Annie returns. Instead, she reaches for his hand below the table and tugs it onto her lap, smiling at him in an effort to answer his question.

"Should I change before we head to your dad's house?" Annie managed to change the topic of conversation with her return, "Or is what I'm wearing okay?"

"It's not a formal event. You're fine."

Dinner was only going to consist of Erin's parents and brother. It wasn't an event that would host some foreign dignitary; it was just a small family dinner, one her family tries to do at least once every two weeks or once a month. It was a small gathering with food cooked by her mom since on family dinner nights such as today; she lets the cooking staff off early. Camille wants it to resemble old times –times before her husband became the president- as much as possible.

"What are you going to do while we're gone?" Erin finishes of her cupcake.

"I have a conference call with my band and staff."

Annie clears her throat, "I'm going to the bathroom and then we can leave." And Jay is grateful for her departure; he turns to face Erin and finds her already staring at him, "Are you alright? What did I walk back in on?"

"Promise you won't let it get to you?"

He quirks his brows, "Yeah…"

"You were right. Annie is not particularly fond of you, especially of your reputation. She thinks you're going to let me fall for you and then break my heart."

Jay remains quiet.

Erin isn't completely pleased by it, "And by your silence, I'm assuming you agree with her."

"I have no intention of breaking your heart. It's just, you know how the saying goes; old habits are hard to break. I am kind of worried that once we're no longer in each other's presence that my ways may come out."

"Your old ways…" she corrects, leaning over to press the smallest of kisses against his cheek. It's a sweet peck, a small gesture of affection that shows just how much she likes him. Her lips brushed against the light stubble of his facial hair before she pulled away, "it's your old ways."

"My old ways," he repeats, running his hand through her hair, "I don't want to hurt you."

"…you won't. I trust you." And with her reputation of past relationships, that says a lot.

"You barely know me."

"And that says a lot. I trust you Jay. Just don't make me regret it."

"I won't."

Erin pressed a kiss to his lips, "I know."

Jay rises to his feet, extending his hand to pull Erin up onto hers just as Annie approaches the table. Annie waits patiently to the side, purposely ignoring the obvious affection shared between the new lovebirds as fans sneak photos. She leaves them at the table to stand outside, near the truck they arrived in. Roman opens the back door for her and she gives him a grateful smile before climbing in. She faces the window, staring outside of it to see Jay and Erin holding hands; he's leading her towards the row of taxis parked behind the truck.

Erin hates to see him go. She tightens her hold around his hand because of it. And if he notices, he says nothing to indicate it. After this weekend, they didn't know when they would see each other again. Who could blame her for wanting to spend as much time with her boyfriend as possible before they both were back to work?

Dawson and Sorensen are in the front of the truck as Roman and Atwater stick close behind her, debating on a good distance. It's always been an issue for them, wondering what is considered too close and what is considered too far away. What's a good safe distance? One where they could see her and get to her in time just in case someone poses a threat to her safety while giving her a sense of privacy. She's used to it though. She's been guarded by them for 11 years. Jay pulls her to a stop just beside a parked taxi. He wants to kiss her but he sees a paparazzi photographer a few feet away, ready and waiting. It's one thing when his fans capture a photo and posts it on social media but it's another thing when the paparazzi does it because they're most likely selling it, trying to profit off their relationship.

"Let's make a promise to each other."

He breaks out of his reverie, "I'm listening."

"How about we agree to keep people's opinions out of our relationship," she says, winding her arms around his shoulders to pull him down for one final kiss. She only pulls her head away when she notices the flash of a camera, "It's okay," she whispers, holding him in place, "Let it be his lucky day, I want to get back to what I was saying," she knew how he felt when it came to their relationship and the paparazzi and she definitely appreciated it when his shoulders relaxed and he turned away from the departing photographer to listen to the rest of what she had to say, choosing to hear her out over going after that guy and doing who knows what to convince him to delete that photo, "As I was saying, Jay, no matter how famous you are or how well-known I am, this relationship is just between me and you, and if we have insecurities about anything we talk to each other about them. Okay?"

"It won't be easy."

"I'm not expecting it to be, but if this is something you want-"

"It is," he interrupts matter-of-factly, "I do want this."

"…then you should be willing to do anything to keep it. I know I am. And if you don't fight for what you want then you deserve what you get." She presses one last kiss against the corner of his mouth before turning to walk away.

-x-

The atmosphere was tense. Dinner had been filled with many awkward pauses and lapses in conversation; her mother had deemed herself the sole conversation starter of the night because it seems that every topic was brought up by her. Her father appeared to still be upset; he could definitely hold a grudge and it seems he wasn't over the disagreement they had the night of Olinsky's birthday party. He answered questions in one-worded statements; he purposely kept it brief as he ate and avoided eye contact with her.

A lot of the conversation was filled with Camille talking to Annie, both women noticing but choosing to overlook the tense atmosphere. All Erin needed to do was get through the night and then leave; she just had to make it through the rest of dinner. Food had already been served ten minutes ago; it was her dad's favorite dish, one Erin didn't particularly like but she refused to complain about it. She didn't need another reason for her father to be upset with her.

The fork in her hand pushed around the peas on her plate. It served as a distraction. She had no intention of eating them; she didn't like peas, everyone knew that but with everything going on her mother said she had forgotten. Erin watched one of the peas roll off her plate and fall onto the red tablecloth. She didn't move to grab it as it continued to roll towards her brother's plate. It caught his eye; it was probably the second time of the night he looked up from his phone and the look he held on his face relaxed her tense shoulders. She wasn't mad at him. She could never be mad at him. Justin pocketed his phone for the first time that night and when he opened his mouth to speak, their mother beat him to it, "So, sweetheart, Annie here tells me that you three are going to play laser tag tomorrow. What else were you planning to do during her visit?" It was a genuine question. Erin could tell by the look in her mother's eyes. She was happy, more content and comfortable actually.

Yet, by the look in her dad's eyes, he was the complete opposite. The fork in his hand dropped and rattled against his plate, "Three? Who's the third person?"

He tried to sound genuine and gentle, but the look in his eye contracted the sound of his voice. It was obvious he didn't really care to know who; he just wanted to make sure it wasn't who he assumed. She immediately got defensive; she knew her father, she spent her whole life knowing him and how he operates and that's why her answer was laced with so much attitude, "Jay."

"Erin…"

"Let's not do this tonight, dad."

"You said the same thing the other night. If not then, if not now, then when," he sits up straight, food on his plate forgotten as he waits for an answer.

"For a guy who has one of the hardest, one of the most time-consuming and straining jobs in the world, you seem to have a lot of time to worry about _my_ personal life." She didn't answer his question and that was on purpose.

"You're not right for each other! You're complete opposites!"

"How would you even know? You don't know him!"

"I know men like him. And I know you, and I want you to end this, uh," he thinks quickly on his feet to come up with a title before giving up, "whatever you want to call it."

"Relationship," she answers, "because that's what it is. He's my _boyfriend_. And he's not going anywhere."

"Erin…"

"Dad, this conversation is over," she throws her cloth napkin onto her unfinished plate.

"This conversation is far from over, Erin."

"Yes it is, my relationship has nothing to do with you. Who I choose to date is none of your concern. Who I pursue, who I kiss, and who I spend my time with is .none of your business, _daddy_ ," she emphasizes the last word in hopes that it'll win him over like it used to do.

"It is my business. It does involve me and it does concern me. I'm your dad."

It didn't work.

This whole argument was what she was afraid of happening. She didn't want the topic of her relationship coming up because her and her father could never see eye to eye. Things were going so good, even if it didn't feel like it, but not talking definitely felt better than arguing. And before she could think of another response, she feels her mother's hand cover her own, "I agree with your dad on that part sweetheart. I don't care how old you are, we're your parents and your life is our business and it does concern us."

"Mom, he's being unreasonable right now."

"Is he really though?" Annie just had to open up her mouth, "I mean, we had a conversation earlier and I basically said the same thing. I saw you guys in the kitchen and I thought you looked cute together, I thought you guys were really sweet together, but Erin, that was ten minutes and he's been the way he was for much longer than that. He's a man whore."

"Listen to your friend, Erin."

At her dad's suggestion, she refused to stay put. She didn't come here to be cornered or lectured. She came for dinner not an intervention. Erin glanced around the table, swiping her phone from beside her plate and shot a quick text to her mother's assistant, currently going over her mother's schedule in the next room. She just needed five minutes of her time; Erin sent a quick message, requesting for her to call a taxi to pick her up. She was sent a thumb up in response and based off the sigh of relief that comes out of her mouth, the tension in her shoulders drifts away.

She tunes back into the conversation to hear Annie still talking, "I know it sounds harsh, but we're really not insulting you if you think about it."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

"The only reason you don't like what we have to say is because you know we're right."

"And on that note," Erin rises to her feet, "I'm out of here."

Normally she wouldn't storm off, especially as her parents call for her to return, especially when her brother tries to change the conversation, but she's had enough of it. She wants to see her boyfriend. She doesn't feel like arguing anymore, especially if she isn't in a courtroom getting paid for it. Erin takes the quickest corridor towards the foyer of the white house. She makes sure to poke her head inside of her mother's office to thank her assistant before heading towards the entrance. In the distance, she hears heels following behind her and the voice of her mother, calling out for her, echoing down the empty halls of the large manor, "Erin, wait up! You know I can't run in heels, especially when they're this high," Camille slows down just as she spots her daughter.

Erin goes outside, ignoring her mother's calls in order to stand and wait for the taxi. She assumes her mother's assistant had also gotten into contact with the front security gate to inform them of the taxi that should be arriving soon. She hoped her assistant remembered because she didn't want to have to wait for Annie; she was ready to leave now.

It's a chill in the air, one her blazer only manages to keep at bay just a little. She's alerted by her mother's presence when she hears the front door open and shut, "If you came out here to convince me to go back inside then you might as well save your breath."

"I came out here so you wouldn't be alone," Camille pulls off her own sweater and embraces the chill as she drapes it over her daughter's shoulders, "I happened to see on the Facebook that-"

" _The_ Facebook mom, really?"

"What?" Camille chuckles.

"Just forget it, but can we please just skip the lecture?"

"Well that's great because I don't have one prepared."

"Look," she turns to face her mother; they're the same height, "I know you don't like him. I know you don't trust him. And I know you would prefer it if I found someone else to date, but I don't want to, I like him. That should be enough."

"I don't…I don't know him enough to say whether or not I like him. And yeah, based off his reputation, I can honestly say I don't trust him, that's something you have to earn, but I trust you," she wraps her hands around her daughter's upper arms, "You're a tough kid, excuse me, you're a tough woman and everything you went through as a kid with Charlie, the drugs, Nadia, all of that you were able to overcome," she pulls her daughter closer, dropping her hands from around her arms to wrap them around her daughter, bringing her into a hug, "You can handle a lot more than we give you credit for and I know we can't always protect you, case in point the examples I just provided, but it doesn't mean we won't try. You may not understand now, but you will when you have kids of your own one day."

Camille feels her daughter nod against the crook of her own neck, and she sighs in content, knowing Erin isn't leaving on a complete sour note. She planned to stay like this until Erin was ready to pull away, but when she saw Annie exit the house, she knew that her moment had ended. Camille kissed her daughter's forehead, lingering her lips against her flesh until Erin completely pulled away, wiping the lipstick smudge off her skin, "I'm sorry that I ruined dinner," she wipes the corner of her eye with the side of her hand.

"You didn't ruin anything," Camille asserted, brushing her thumb along the apple of her daughter's cheek, wiping away a fallen tear, "You didn't ruin anything. I'll call you tomorrow."

As Camille walks away, Annie approaches. When Camille disappears into the house, Annie takes that as her sign to speak, "Erin, I came out because I wanted to apologize."

"You don't need to do that," Erin responds, tugging her mother's sweater tighter around her shoulders, "I don't want to hear it because I know you don't mean it," Annie opens her mouth to argue it, but Erin doesn't give her a chance, "You're only apologizing to save face."

"That's not-"

"Look Annie," she interrupts, handing her mother's sweater over to her when she notices a slight shiver radiate through her shoulders, "I'm not going to kick you out of my place because you insulted my boyfriend. I'm not that petty. My guards will take you back to my condo and if there's anywhere you want to go there's public transportation or you can borrow my car, just ask them for the keys."

"And what about you?" She drapes the sweater over her own shoulders, "I get the sense that you're not coming home tonight."

"Not that it's any of your business but Jay left his band in Louisiana to come see me and I intend to take advantage of being in the same city as him."

"You're both returning to Chicago on Monday. You'll see him then."

Erin grips the lapels of her fuchsia blazer and pulls it closer, blocking the breeze from chilling her bones, "He flies back Monday morning; I go Monday afternoon. Tuesday, I may not see him because I'm the guest speaker at an event. I have no idea what his schedule consists of, but I return to D.C. on Thursday and because we both have demanding careers, I don't know when we'll be able to see each other again."

"…the downside of a long distance relationship, huh?"

"There are so many downsides, but I have faith in this."

Annie reminds, "He's only been your boyfriend for three days."

"Yeah, but we've known each other longer and in that time I really got to know him, I got to see a side of him that many people, you included, don't get to see."

"Distance poses a risk," Annie mutters.

And Erin retorts, "Distance also makes the heart grow fonder."

"I don't want to see you get hurt."

"…then stop hurting me."

Annie is speechless. Those words tore at her from the inside. And Erin noticed it by the expression on her face. She took a step towards her longest friend and extended her hand. No words were said as Annie intertwined her hand with Erin's. The taxi pulled up at some point. Neither of them noticed right away until he rolled his window down, "I started the meter." Erin rolled her eyes at his warning as she tugged Annie closer, drawing her arms around her friend.

"So, you're not mad at me?" Annie whispered into the hug, face buried into the crook of her friend's neck.

"We've been through too much for me to be mad at you, especially over a guy."

"Does that mean I get to see you tomorrow?"

"Of course," the hug ends and Erin starts walking towards the taxi, "you flew all of this way to hang out. Do you mind if he tagged along?"

"Erin…"

"I'll figure it out."

Erin gets into the taxi and tells the driver the address to the hotel, only sinking back into the leather seats the moment the car drives off. She sees Annie walk back inside the house and her father step out. His hands are against his waist, his foot is tapping and the look on his face makes her feel bad for leaving, but she's too stubborn to go back. Their words haunted her. She didn't want to hear I told you so if none of this works out. She's taking a risk with her heart, she knows this, but every part of her is pushing her towards him. Even though they're opposites like her dad keeps reminding her, don't opposites attract? But, what if they're too much of opposites; she can't cook, she's a neat freak, she works a lot, she's independent, stubborn and she has the tendency to shut down a lot when it comes to confronting and talking about her past. She knows what she's getting herself into, but does he?

-x-

While Erin and Annie were at the White House for dinner, Jay had been in his hotel room on a conference call he could have honestly skipped out on. He's on a skype call; he had been on it for the last two hours going over the schedule for the next two months, planning interviews, photo ops and events that he honestly could do without. Will is hosting the call, as manager he takes his job probably too seriously if you ask Jay or Kenny. His band is reacting in the way Jay had expected. Rixton is dozing in and out, chin resting in the palm of his hand as he nurses a glass of scotch. Mouse is paying attention, asking questions and jotting down the important dates into his phone. Ruzek seemed to continuously be preoccupied with Burgess, who sits close beside him. And Jay, he's sitting in his bed, back against the headboard, dressed in only a pair of sweatpants with his bare chest taking up most of the screen.

Will is back in Chicago with Natalie, going over PR events that she's taking charge of, discussing with Burgess via the webcam what look they should go for and making a list to send off to Violet –their marketing and advertising exec- on how they want their upcoming events promoted. It was a conversation that could have been done without him and the band. They hardly chimed in at all, most of what he said was confirmation that he heard; this conference call was mainly for the people who operate behind the scenes.

Ruzek and Burgess chose to stay in Louisiana a little longer, opting to fly back to Chicago on Monday morning. Mouse and Rixton were currently on a plane ride back, sitting in first class, with their earphones in their separate laptops to muffle the sounds of the variety of voices talking through the screen. Jay listened to his brother chat with Mason –their band entertainment lawyer- in the bottom, left hand corner of his laptop screen, going over the regulations and the fine print of a contract needed for each member to sign since a corporation is interested in hiring them to promote their band. Jay trusted his brother; he honestly didn't need to listen and be here for any of this. He would take Will's word on it. If it's something he thinks they should do, then Jay will happily be the first person to do it.

A text comes through on his phone, causing it to vibrate against the end table. He reaches over as the conversation moves to Devon –their event coordinator- who is currently being told to work closely with Natalie and Violet as they plan their next function, a couple of days before their next concert. Jay checks the text and smiles; _I'm on my way to you. Currently in a taxi, -EV_

 _Taxi? Did Annie take your car too? –JH_

Jay meant it as a joke. He only hoped Erin saw it as one too. He just didn't see any other reason why Erin would take a taxi from her dad's place instead of the truck she always rides in or even her own car. And he remembered how throughout the whole day Annie had managed to get everything she wanted without paying a single cent. He wouldn't have been surprised if that's how she ended up with Erin's normal ride too. He's close to following up his last message with a withdrawal, one backing out and reneging on his earlier crack when she replies, _No, I just needed to get out of there. It would have taken me longer if I had to wait for her and my guards, -EV_

 _You're without your guards? Is that safe?-JH_

 _You don't need to worry, -EV_

"Jay," Will calls out.

"Huh," He answers, eyes still glued to the screen as he types out his response to Erin.

"You'll be back bright and early Monday morning, right?"

"Yeah, I'll be there." Jay shot back.

 _I'm in room 1812. I'll see you when you get here, -JH_

While the phone remained in his hand another text came through. It was from his brother, telling him to pay attention. Jay rolled his eyes and set his phone down onto the end table before looking back at the screen and tuning back into the next subject. Natalie was discussing the order she'll have to place for Sarah –their hair and makeup artist- and the budget she request to do so. And again, this was a topic that Jay didn't need to be involved in. This could have been held by his manager and their staff; it didn't need to be a monthly thing, especially involving him and the band. Jay leaned back in his bed and he must have zoned out of the conversation because by the time he broke out of his daydream, everyone was waving and slowly exiting out of skype.

"Jay," only he and Will remained.

"What's up?"

"Please," he begs, eyes closed and hands grasped together, "please don't miss your flight back here on Monday. Please behave yourself. Please don't-"

"You already went over the rules with me. Honestly Will, I'm starting to get insulted."

His brother rolls his eyes, "I know you have the tendency to forget."

"You never give me a chance to remember," Jay retorted.

"That's because I know you."

Halstead is prepared to quip back, but a knock on his hotel room door silences him. He hopes, he actually prays that Will didn't hear it, but by the rise of his brother's eyebrow, he knows his prayer was not answered. Before his brother could question him, Jay ends the call, exiting out of the application and shutting his laptop. He slides out of his bed when the knocking starts back up, "I'm coming Erin." The laptop is placed on the bedside table before he crosses the room. The knocking stops the second he reaches the door.

And once he pulls it open, Erin is stepping inside. No greetings. No waiting for an invitation to enter. No smiles. No wave of the hand. She was in too much of a hurry and she had other things on her mind. Jay says nothing either. And as soon as he closed his hotel door behind her, Erin was on him, pushing him back into it as her lips began peppering kisses along his neck. He barely uttered a word, hardly released a groan of satisfaction before he was pushing her blazer off her arms and kicking it away from them the moment it fell to the ground.

Erin was worked up. That much he could tell. She was already pulling at the drawstrings of his sweatpants, wanting to discard him of one of the many barriers separating their bodies. She was upset. She was kissing him with desperation, want and yearning. And even though he wanted this, he wanted this so much; he had to put a stop to it. He grabs her upper arms and against every impulse in his body, he carefully pushes away, her back hitting against the wall with more force than he anticipated, "Are you okay?" It was a double meaning behind it. Was she physically –from the wall- and emotionally –from her family dinner- okay?

She kicked off her flats, "I will be in a few minutes."

"What's wrong?"

"I'm a horrible cook." She begins to pull her white blouse out of her skirt as she stepped forward.

"I could be the chef in the relationship."

She appears to be satisfied with his response. Erin crosses her arms after clenching the bottom of her blouse and pulls the shirt over her head, "I'm a neat freak." She throws her shirt off to the side which seems to contradict her last statement.

"I don't see a problem with that."

It's like she's trying to find ways to point out why they won't work but he has a rebuttal for each. It doesn't stop her from trying again though, "I'm a workaholic."

"Shut up," he interrupted her; this time he's moving in closer, "and come here," his hand wraps around her waist and he pulls her in closer, flushing her up against him.

Jay's lips brushed against hers. One hand rested on her lower back while his other hand held her chin and eventually drifted down her neck, down her side before resting on her waist. She entwined her arms around his neck as she drew him in closer, "Dinner was that bad," he whispered against her lips.

Erin pushed him back and Jay's head hit the door with a thump as Erin's hands dropped down to the drawstring of his sweatpants. Her eyes shone in the low light, "Worse."

"…maybe I can help you forget about it," his hands fell to the bottom of her yellow skirt and he began tugging it up, "leave the skirt on."

"If that's what you want," she seductively whispered as her hands gently pulled him free.

Erin groaned. His sweatpants and boxers fell to the ground and she grinned mischievously when he steps out of his boxers and lifts her up. She wraps her legs around his waist as her yellow skirt rides up and scrunches around her hips. His hands grip under her thigh and he carries her over to his bed. Erin's lips were back on his; she needed this distraction. Her arms around his neck, drew him in closer, keeping her body as close to his as possible, "You're so out of my fucking league," he managed to whisper against her hard-pressed lips, "And I have no idea how this happened, how we happened but I'm not complaining."

"…then stop talking," she muttered back.

And that night, after sheathing himself with a condom, Jay slowly thrust into her, arms steadied on either side of her body, barricading her from the outside world, from the judgmental public and her overbearing parents, she realized that she didn't or she shouldn't care what they think; this is between him and her and as long as they're happy, that's all that matters.


	10. Little Things

Erin shifts closer, tucking her legs behind his. She's naked. Her breasts are bare against his back, warm and soft and cozy. Her arm is draped over his waist, hand opened and resting against his sculptured chest. She's spooning him. Erin is actually spooning him. With no idea how they ended up in this position, she had no complaints. She's been awake for the last few minutes, trailing her fingers along his bare chest, slowly and carefully raising him from his slumber.

When she feels him shift in front of her, his breath uneven now that he's awake, she tightens her hold around him, "Good morning," she mumbles into his neck, her lips brushing across his skin.

Jay turns over, shifting his entire body to face her. His hair is ruffled and she finds herself curious about how she looks right now. By the tired and sated grin on his face, she figures it can't be too bad. With the way he's looking at her, she honestly feels like she's the most beautiful sight he's ever seen, perfection, a wonder that amazes him. Jay lies on his side, facing her. He smiles harder, pulling her hand out from beneath the blankets to press a kiss to the center of her palm. Even though she didn't know the actual time, it feels too early for this.

"Jay," she groans in a tired objection

He continues the teasing anyway; he doesn't stop. His lips glide down the center of her palm to reach her wrist. Nipping at the pulse beating gently through her wrist, she bites back a moan. It's too early...or maybe it's not. Suddenly, he's moving closer in her arms, mouth seeking hers, threading his fingers through her hair as his lips press against hers. It's a chaste kiss in comparison to the previous ones they've had the last few nights, but as his arm wraps around her waist, flushing her naked body further against his, she knows it has the potential to lead elsewhere. His hotel room grows heated in passion and temperature as the kiss escalates.

Jay gives himself over to it, to her and rolls his naked form above her, startling her completely awake while keeping most of his weight supported by his arms situated on both sides of her head. He pressed kisses across her shoulder, trailing up her neck, ghosting over her collarbone before returning to her mouth, "This is how I pictured waking up yesterday morning," he says, humming against her lips, "You should stay the night in my hotel room more often."

"I wish I could," she whispered, fingers intertwining with his brunette hair, "but I have to divide my time between you and Annie. She gets me tonight," he draws away and he stares down at her with a puzzled expression on his face: eyebrows knitted together, mouth ajar and face flushed, "What?" she reads his face before chuckling to herself, "not like that, Jay."

"Oh okay, now where were we?" he resumes his last act, lowering his lips down onto her pulse point in the crook of her neck.

As his mouth moved against her flesh, biting down, kissing, licking and nipping at her flesh, she notices his hand reach out towards the bedside table, fumbling around until he grabs the protection he was looking for and handing it over. His lips continuously assault her neck as she takes the foil package from him, tearing it open with her teeth, discarding the foil and rolling the condom down his shaft. No words were further shared between the two of them as her arms wrapped around his neck and he pushed himself into her, his member reappearing and disappearing with each thrust. He saw her watching, eyes trained down on where their bodies connect and it takes all of him not to follow her gaze. For all he knows that if he does, this'll end before it really even started. And both he and Erin deserved more than a quick little tryst in his hotel room, especially since he won't have her tonight.

Erin's head fell back against the pillow; the strain from holding it up and looking down was starting to weigh against her neck.

" _Faster_ Jay," she practically pleaded; her legs opening wider allowing him to increase his speed and hit new angles they have yet to discover. His mouth comes back to hers, silencing her demands and taking her mind off of thinking, focusing it all back on the pleasure coursing through her.

Unfortunately, the loud blaring of his cell phone from his pants discarded somewhere near the foot of the bed stills his movements for a second. Her lips froze against his as he increased the pressure of his kiss, "I'm ignoring it." He pulled out and thrusted back in, focusing her back on the important moment at hand. It takes less than a second for them to find that steady pace once more, and just as her fingers drag along his back, scratching and marking him, his cell rings again. She grips his hips, trying to still his movements but he continues on, "Jay…"

"No, ignore it." He starts to trail his lips along her jawline, "and look, it stopped ringing."

"It could be important." It rings again.

"Fuck." He's irritated; his forehead falls and rests in the crook of her neck. She pats his back, frowning at the loss of contact the second he pulls out and rolls from off the top of her. He reaches for his cell, his hands fumbling in the pockets of his pants until he finds it, "You better be dead or dying." He doesn't even waste a second to check the caller ID. She laughs at his threatening tone before rolling out of bed, now in search of her own phone to see if she had any missed calls. She had placed it on silent last night to ensure they wouldn't be deserved. Unfortunately, he didn't do the same.

It had been Will on his phone, going on and on about how photos of Jay and Erin were captured by the public and posted on social media and celebrity gossip and news sites. He's talking so fast that Jay is barely keeping up; he's not even able to get a word in until his brother pauses to catch his breath, "Are you done?" Jay sounds irritated.

"I think so…yes."

"I can't believe that's why you called."

Will's breath hitches, "I'm going to call you on skype," he immediately retorts.

"Is that really necessary? I was kind of busy."

"Just get on skype. I won't keep you long and I promise to leave you alone until Sunday night."

Jay hung up his phone, rose from the bed and grabbed one of his shirts out of his opened suitcase. He tossed the gray t-shirt towards Erin as he grabbed a pair of boxers to throw on. Erin sat up, a confused expression on her face as she pulled the large t-shirt over her head, "I think you're the first guy I've been with to ever push for me to put clothes _on_."

"My stupid brother wants to skype me," he growls, lifting his laptop and walking back over to the bed, "I'm not expecting to have you on camera but if we don't want him to know you're here I can't be getting distracted. And you Miss. Voight," he leaned over to press a light kiss against her lips, "are a distraction."

Halstead climbs back into the bed as Erin lies back down. She figured she might as well get in a few extra minutes while Jay is video chatting with his brother. The skype tone rings out through his hotel room and he answers after the first ping, "Now what was I getting at when I first called," his brother skipped the greetings and went right back into his earlier monologue, "I'm not getting on the girl, Jay," this perks up Erin's ears; she's well aware that she's the girl he's talking about, "we all know why you traveled back to D.C. and I saw the picture you posted on social media of the two of you with the vaguest caption ever."

"A picture's worth a thousand words. That is not vague."

Will rolls his eyes, "That's vague. I have gotten too many calls from paparazzi and reporters wondering if that meant you two were official."

"What did you tell them?"

"Nothing…I didn't know. It was too vague."

"Is that why you called? Because my social media caption wasn't clear enough?"

"…no," Will sighed.

Erin rolled over to face Jay; he's currently sitting up in the bed, back against the headboard as his legs were warm and crossed beneath the comforter. Erin was under it as well, scooting closer to practically lie against his side, throwing one leg around his and cuddling against him further. His brow rises in curiosity, but he doesn't look in her direction, "What are you getting at Will? You call me going off because pictures of me and Erin holding hands, kissing and acting like a couple were released. Then you're saying that you don't know if we're a couple or not because my post on social media wasn't clear enough. And now you're telling me that everything you just said has nothing to do with why you called in the first place."

"I want you to try and stay out of the spotlight when you're with Erin," this causes her to sit up and face Jay with the softest expression he's ever seen; Will, on the other hand, was holding his hands up in defense, waiting for Jay to interrupt him with a heated rebuttal, "I have no problem with you being together with her, but considering who she is, I think you need to be cautious."

"Out of both of us in this relationship, you think _I'm_ the one who should be cautious around _her_?" Jay is actually too confused to be upset.

"I know you can handle yourself. I want you to be cautious so she doesn't screw us over the second you break her heart."

Jay had planned to respond. He had a rebuttal ready but before he could part his lips, Erin had leaned against him, head on his shoulder, smiling as she waved at Will on the screen. Oh, how Jay wished he had a camera ready? He wish he had recorded the look on his brother's face the second he realized that not only was Erin now on the screen but she was in his hotel room dressed in only his shirt with her sex hair wild atop of her head. His brother didn't have to ask to know that she had spent the night. It was early in the morning and she was not dressed for public eyes. It had taken his brother a couple of minutes to realize she had asked him a question; he blinked his eyes until he focused on her, "It's Will, right?"

"Yes, yes ma'am." Jay bit back a chuckle at his brother's embarrassment.

"Erin is fine," she corrected before pulling the laptop onto her own lap, "Sorry to cut in, but I wanted to respond to what you were saying."

"I meant no disrespect."

"I figured," she shrugged, "but I still want to respond anyway. It's just over the last day I've been hearing a lot of people's opinions on what's been going on between me and your brother. And with all due respect whatever happens between me and your brother, whether good or bad is between me and your brother, not you, your staff, my parents, no one _but_ me and your brother."

His brother is speechless.

"On that note Will," Jay grabs his laptop back, "we shall go," and before his brother could say anything else, Jay ends the skype call, shuts his laptop and sets it down on the end table.

"I hope you're not mad."

He cups her cheek, "Why would I be mad? You have been the only person that has been able to shut my brother up. Believe me, we've all tried." It's the little things. Jay captures her lips with his, only separating when she starts to pull away, "What?"

She snickers, clipping his chin with her hand, "Nothing, I just need to use the bathroom," after pressing one parting kiss to his lips, she climbs out of bed.

Halstead sits back, hands intertwined over his sculptured chest as he watches her smooth legs lead her towards the in-room suite bathroom. He bit his lip the second the door shut and once it locked, he reached for the hotel phone, dialing room service and putting in an order for breakfast and coffee, fingers crossed as he prays that this time he'll finally get her order right.

When she returns from the restroom, she finds him still lying in the same position. A smirk covered his features as he watched her walk barefoot around his hotel room, going from the bathroom to her side of the bed to grab her cell. She crawls back into the bed, pulling her phone from the end table to check her messages; a few from Annie and a couple from her guards.

 _Thanks to Annie, I didn't have to send a search team out looking for you. She told us where you went, -Atwater_

 _Next time give us a heads up; I don't want to lose my job. It has good benefits :) –Sorensen_

 _A taxi, really? When you're ready to come home, please call me. Don't take a cab, -Roman_

 _I wish you would have given us a heads up. Also, you need to tell your friend that we're your guards, not her chauffeurs, -Dawson_

Erin sighs, running a hand through her wild hair before typing out an individual apology to each guard. She had been rash. She had been impulsive. Her emotions got the best of her and she wasn't thinking about others. She was acting like a teenager, keeping secrets from her parents, storming out when she heard things she didn't like, allowing her emotions to get the best of her and refusing to see anyone else's perspective. Erin sighed, scrolling through her unanswered text messages. She's so distracted; she doesn't see or feel Jay roll over onto his side, extending his arm over her lap. She only pays attention when he speaks, "Are you okay?"

"Who would have thought being together would cause so many problems?"

His brows furrow as he draws away from her, "Are you having second thoughts?"

"No," her answer is quick, clear and stern, "I just never thought being together would offend so many people. And it's not just our family members Jay, it's our friends, it's some of your fans, it's some of my dad's voters, the media, people who I have never met or knew existed. How could what we do in our personal life, who we choose to see outside of work offend them?"

"I don't know," he runs his hand over his face; he's exhausted, "And to be honest, I don't care," she shifts in the bed, pulling her eyes away from her phone screen as she turns to face him, "All I care about is you. They don't like us being together, so what? Fuck them."

"You make it sound so easy," she turns back to scroll through her messages, moving along to her email after reading all her texts and responding to a few of them, mainly from her guards and brother. She'll come back to Annie's messages later…or maybe not at all.

"It sounds easy because it is easy," he takes his previous position, lying on his side with his arm draped over her lap, "I didn't just get this bad boy reputation because of my escapades in the sheets," she rolls her eyes; that wasn't exactly something she wanted to be reminded of, "I also got it for my tendency to not give a shit about what people, more specifically people I don't know think about me."

"…but your decisions only affect you. My decisions affect voters. Reelection is next year and if I screw up, my dad's competition could use that to their advantage."

"That isn't fair on you."

"Yeah well," she bites her lip and shrugs, "that's just how it's always been, at least for me. I can't speak for the children of other politicians. I had my rebellious phase, that moment when I honestly had enough and didn't give a shit about what anyone, including my parents, thought of me," she shrugs again as her eyes skim the subject of each email, "Hey, I got a last minute invite to a charity auction; it's in a couple of hours, would you want to come with me?"

The topic change was casual yet sort of abrupt. She must have grown tired of talking about her past. He noticed that for the time he's known her, some topics she didn't delve into too much. He tried searching her online but her family must have paid big dollars to keep her rebellious stage secret. The people who probably knew about it were limited.

Jay notices that Erin's waiting for an answer. She's going regardless of if he's coming along or not, but she got an invite, it had a plus one attached, and she figured she might as well extend the invitation, especially since she has to divide her time and hang out with Annie later. Jay glances up to find Erin glancing down, eyes wide, waiting and questioning and he finally answers with a shrug, "Yeah, I'll go with you."

"Don't feel forced. I don't mind going alone."

He sits up, "No, I honestly don't mind. It'll be good for my image," she quirks a brow in disbelief, "and of course to spend time with you and donate to those less fortunate than me."

She chuckles, "Sounds good, I'll rsvp us then."

Erin's fingers tap against the screen, most likely accepting the invite and sending off texts to her guards to update them on her plans for today. The charity auction didn't start until around noon so they had a couple of hours to enjoy the peace, quiet and solitude his hotel room offered. He had no plans to leave the bed in the next few hours; unfortunately when there's a knock on the door, he remembered that he ordered room service, "Damn it, I was comfortable."

"I can get the door."

Jay looks at her, scanning his eyes over her body, "…not dressed like that, I got it." He rolls out of bed, grabbing a pair of sweatpants to throw on, "I would prefer it if I were the only guy privy to that look," he sends her a wink before getting the door.

Even though a young man took his order, a young woman was the one to deliver it. She could hear the short conversation occurring under the threshold of the door. Erin would join, maybe stake her claim, but the last thing she needed was some random girl running off and selling a story about her staying the night at her boyfriend's place to the highest bidder. So, Erin stayed silent, a bit uncomfortable at the seductive tone that filled the woman's voice as she obviously flirted with a publicly taken man; it's out there, everyone should know at this point. He basically claimed her and made it official on social media.

When the door is shut and Jay rolls the cart further into the room, Erin sets her phone to the side and starts to climb out of bed, "You know, I would much prefer it if I were the only girl privy to that look," she nods towards his untamed hair, bare chest and handsome smile.

Jay smiles, recognizing her words as the words he just said to her moments ago. She walks over, and he thinks she's coming towards him, maybe for a kiss or a hug, but she goes straight for the coffee, looking between the two and wondering which one is for her, "That's you, please tell me I got your order right this time."

She lifts the mug and takes a cautious sip, "Sorry babe." Erin sits the cup right back down.

"One day, I'll get it. I swear."

"You know I was in the bathroom," she reminds, lifting the lid of each dish to see what he ordered, "You could have just asked me how I take my coffee."

"I don't want to ask. I want to get it on my own."

"You like to make things complicated," she chuckles.

"No, I just like a challenge."

"But, every time you fail I end up without coffee."

He swipes a strawberry from the plate before responding, "Which is why you should be my number one cheerleader because when I win, you win."

Erin begins lifting the lid of each covered plate, scanning her eyes over the assortment of food he had ordered. He was definitely trying to impress her. From the fruit to the variety of pastries, Jay hadn't left a breakfast item unordered. Erin lifts the last lid; the plate is empty besides a folded note, "Are you two passing letters now?"

"What's it say?" Jay is just as confused as she is.

She grabs the folded piece of paper and opens it, "It's a phone number," the note is handed to him, "I'll kill her." While holding eye contact with her, he slowly rips it in half, "Hmm."

She accepts the gesture. She makes no big deal of it. It's kind of sweet and rewarding considering his reputation. It says a lot; it speaks volumes. It basically lets her know that he's in this…maybe for the long haul. Erin crosses her arms and grips the bottom fabric of his shirt that she's wearing, "I think I'm going to shower before I eat," he hears her say, watching her as she sauntered over towards the bathroom, tossing the shirt off to the side somewhere.

And in his defense, he lasted at least five minutes. And they didn't get to finish what they started earlier. Jay remained restless in his seat and struggled to distract himself before thinking fuck it and grabbing a condom before ambling on towards the bathroom. With each step, he loses an article of clothing, leaving a trail behind him. His boxers were the last to be discarded before he stepped through the bathroom door. Emma was standing behind the glass, shower wall, relaxing beneath the stream of warm water as it rinsed through her hair. Jay pushed back the door, stepping inside quickly and quietly before using his teeth to rip open the foil packet of the condom. Without turning to face him, she smirks, "About damn time."

Jay's hands came circling around her waist, "A bit impatient, huh?"

"I need you," she retorted, leaning her head back against his chest, "I really needed you."

"Well I'm here," he whispers, kissing the lobe of her ear.

Jay suddenly turns her around in his arms, keeping a tight hold of her waist to ensure she didn't slip and fall. His lips find immediate purchase against her own, deep throating the kiss with both of their mouths wide open like he's trying to reach the back of her throat somehow. It's intimate. It's setting the mood. It's definitely going to lead to something else. The charity auction wasn't for a couple of more hours; they had time. His mouth leaves hers and while she's not too happy about it, when his lips begin trailing kisses against her flesh, she becomes satisfied with the alternative.

"You smell heavenly," he whispers, nose grazing over the skin of her shoulder. She didn't get to do much washing before he joined her shower but she did manage to wash her face, neck and shoulders. And by how much attention he's paying to those areas, she's happy she did.

Erin's head tilt reflexively to grant him better access as the grazing of his nose turns to his lips gliding along her skin. She's hungry –for food and something else. And he's taking his time. He's taking his time with her. Over the last few days everything had been done in such a rush, it's like they couldn't get enough of each other, but now, he's exploring her body, taking mental notes of what she likes done, her wants and all that in between. There's a sigh that passes her lips, one full of content and ease, and more appropriately want, or possibly need.

Her hands slide up his chest, "…maybe we can save the slow for another time," she says in a rush, face flushed and eyes dilated. He cups her face with both of his hands and lays a heavy kiss upon her lips, one that tells her all she needs to know. He heard her. He accepts.

One of his hands finds itself in her hair, cradling the back of her head, as his lips moved against hers in such a hard and forceful manner. It's one that he learns she likes. He nips at her pulse, biting and sucking hard as his hand stumbles alongside the triangular shelf in the corner of the shower, grabbing for the already opened foil of protection. Slow goes out of the window the second the rubber is in his hands, and as Erin wraps her arms around his neck, pulls him closer and kisses him, dragging her nails down his back as he gathered her in his muscular arms.

-x-

Jay notices this event is much more uppity than the last one he attended with her. The last was open to everyone; all you needed to do was purchase a ticket. This charity auction event was only open to those in a particular financial bracket; it was invite only. The dress code was business casual and Jay realized that if he was going to be dating the first daughter, he's going to need to update his wardrobe. He owned one tuxedo that he always wore to reward shows, he owned two business casual outfits that were normally reserved for interviews and the rest of his wardrobe consisted of jeans, t-shirts and leather jackets. He was wearing his last business casual outfit –slacks, navy blue cardigan, white buttoned up shirt beneath it and a blue tie wrapped around his neck. If she had anymore last minute invites, he would just have to either purchase another outfit or wear what he wore at the speaking event.

Erin stood beside him, fingers intertwined with his as they enter the building. She's in dark jeans, a plain, white shirt loosely tucked in with a light pink blazer that she pulled on at the last minute; it wasn't her favorite blazer, the shoulders were a bit stiff but they matched her heels. Erin tugged him close, nodding for her guards to spread out and give them some privacy, "Okay, so the items that are being sold today are pretty expensive so the bidding will probably start at or around five-"

"Hundred?"

She shakes her head and whispers, "Thousand."

"I got money don't get me wrong, but not enough to just be dropping five grand on some item I most likely won't have any use for."

"You don't have to buy anything," she reassures him, bringing his hand up to brush her lips over his knuckles, "I'm not expecting you to get something. This was last minute. And besides, five grand is normally the starting bid. No one here has bought something from the starting bid. And between you and me, a lot of people here will just overbid just to seem like the richest person in the room."

The couple continues to walk inside the establishment, eyes drifting along the artifacts that are going to be up to sell later. Their hands remain intertwined the entire time and as they move down the corridor, their shoulders occasionally bump together, "All the money earned today will go straight to charity so it's for a good cause."

"What's the highest bid you've seen one item reach?"

"…a couple million and it was for a fucking lamp, can you believe that?"

"Damn."

She chuckles, "I know right."

Each item in the room that was to be auctioned off consisted of a tour of a winery, a winetasting, theater tickets, a bottle of vintage wine, a meet your favorite sports team pass, a couple of gift baskets mostly filled with fine cheese, jewelry and a few paintings by artists that neither of them recognized. It was for a good cause though so she was going to buy something regardless. And when she catches Jay's eyes drifting over the passes to grant the buyer access to their favorite sports team, she makes a mental note. Maybe she'll get it for him as a thank you for coming with her to these events? She knows they're boring yet he has never complained. It's the little things.

The couple makes it through the first room with few greetings, introductions and conversations. Many people here act as if they're above the others, only attending to show off their wealth, to give back once out of the year or to write it off on their taxes. Erin preferred to steer clear of them; her annoyance always showed when she was engaged in conversation.

"Alright," Erin pulls Jay to a stop, "we're about to talk to a few interviewers; they're not hired by the host so there's a huge chance personal questions will be brought up. We're told to try to keep the conversation on topic, focus it on the charity, why we're here and promote it, maybe get people to donate or volunteer."

"You're a professional at this."

Erin laughs at that. Her hold on his hand tightens, "Yeah, well, my mother has been bringing me to events like this since my rebellious period. I guess it was a way to show me how fortunate I am, or to try to steer me back on track and get me used to the people in higher society. I guess at one point she figured I'll turn out like them," she nods towards a few woman of the highest class, gossiping as their husbands discussed business deals.

"I'm assuming it didn't stick."

"Hell no," she states matter of fact.

Erin and Jay reach the interviewers. No flash photography and no sound of camera shutters capturing photos. It was only video cameras positioned on tripods with interviewers posted up in front of each one. Jay was bored; he could think of a million and one ways to spend his time but he knew that his time with Erin was limited. After this event, he's going to be dropped back off at his hotel while she goes to play laser tag with Annie. He was uninvited after yesterday, apparently to keep the peace and try to manage two separate relationships at once, appease two people at the same time. Jay rolled his eyes at the thought. Annie didn't like him. And honestly, he didn't like her either.

"Ms. Voight," the interviewer greeted with the nod of her head, "I'm Francine."

"It's nice to meet you and call me Erin."

Jay stands a few feet behind Erin, watching her in what appears to be her natural element. The microphone is held in the interviewer's small hand just below her chin, "I didn't know you were on the invite list."

"It was last minute. I actually RSVP'd a few hours ago."

Francine pushed her black-rimmed glasses closer to her eyes, "Did you have your eyes on any special trinkets back there?"

"I sure did, but I'm not saying, at least not now."

"This is your fourth charity auction you've attended, right?"

"Sixth."

Francine's eyes widen in amazement, "Oh sixth, yes, sorry! I'm sorry!"

"It's okay," Erin waves it off. She doesn't expect anyone to actually know how many times she's come to this type of event. She hardly remembered herself.

"Normally you and you mother attend together, I assume with her role as first lady, she's pretty busy."

Erin nods, a graceful smile appearing on her face, "You assume correct, and like I said earlier this was last minute. I can hardly get her to fit lunch in with me when I ask her weeks in advance so I know her attending a last minute event was unrealistic."

"And you brought your boyfriend as your plus one," Jay looks up at the mention of himself.

Erin glances back, waving him to step forward, "I sure did."

Jay finds himself beside his girlfriend, her arm looped through his and holding him against her side. When the pair turned to face forward, to look at the interviewer, Francine's eyes had been drawn towards Erin's neck, focusing intently on her collarbone; he automatically knew what she was looking at –a hickey. He had noticed it when they left the hotel, but he said nothing, mostly because her hair covered it, but with the shift of her body, her reaching back to grab and pull him close, her hair had shifted and now Francine, their interviewer, a woman paid to get a story was staring at it. He was screwed.

"Do you have any more questions?" Erin doesn't notice Francine's eyes, at least not right away.

"I uh," the woman is stuttering; Jay hopes the camera isn't drawn towards it because he wouldn't hear the end of it, "I uh, actually cut for a second," she turns to her cameraman and he immediately heeds her order, pausing the video camera. Erin appears confused and before she could probe further, Francine answers the unspoken question, "You have something right there."

Erin glances down quickly, angling her head to carefully exam the darken shade to her complexion. Her face reddens either out of embarrassment or anger, Jay didn't know but he hoped it was the former. However, when her hand grips his and he feels himself yanked away towards an empty corridor, shoving him against a wall the second they're out of sight, he knows she was the latter, "What the fuck is this?" Her hand lifts her hair, broadcasting her hickey as if he didn't notice it.

"It's called a hickey babe." Jay's grinning. He finds the frown lines on her face absolutely adorable. His hands reach for her hips, brushing around her waist only for her to swat him away.

"Yeah, I get that, but why is it on my neck?"

"I left it there."

She rolls her eyes, "Well I hope so considering you're the only one who has been kissing me."

"I don't see the problem," he shrugs. He doesn't see the big deal of it.

By the look on her face, his comment wasn't well received. Erin released him; she took a step back and ran a hand through her hair, drawing her fingers through the strands, untangling her ends, "I'm a public figure." He still didn't see the importance.

"Who gives a shit what they think or say?"

"I do! I do because my decisions don't just affect me; they affect my parents too. I'm not a rock star with a bad boy image. This works for your reputation, not mine."

"Well I'm sorry," he snaps; he's frustrated by her reaction so he forces the apology out.

"Sorry isn't going to make this damn hickey disappear, Jay!" She takes another step away from him, pinching the bridge of her nose, "You don't get it. Leaving a hickey on the neck of the first daughter will get you pat on the backs, praises and applause; it'll get me rumors of promiscuity, name-calling and who knows what else, and that's just for me. What about my dad, my mom, my brother, the voters who support my dad? I have people who depend on me maintaining a certain reputation and having my rock star boyfriend leaving hickeys on my neck doesn't help!"

"I said I was sorry," his eyes reflected his apology; his eyes held every ounce of emotion that his words failed to possess, "I'm sorry," he reached forward and smiled when she allowed him to pull her closer, "It's not every day a guy gets to date the president's daughter. I didn't think leaving a hickey would be such a big deal. It wasn't for all of the previous girls."

"I'm not like the previous girls."

"I'm starting to notice."

"…just starting?"

"I'm sorry," That reputation of his prevented him from showing any hint of emotion. His apology fell flat, but by the look in his eyes, she could tell he meant it.

Erin nods, a hint of a smile brushing across her lips, "Yeah, well, there's nothing we can do about it now. I don't even have any makeup with me to cover it up."

"If they publish anything you don't like, I'll kick their ass."

She releases a small chuckle, "That isn't necessary. All I need for you to do is restrict the hickeys to areas the camera cannot see."

"I can do that." He kisses her. It's brief; if it was up to him, it would have lasted longer, but she was in control. And because of that, she ended the kiss just as soon as it had started.

For her to be freaking out only moments ago, she had gathered herself together and reentered the world of the upper class. She had entered the room and by the smile on her face, it appeared that nothing was wrong. Her hair had been purposely situated to fall over her shoulder and hide the present mark, the reminder of their night and morning together. Her posture was straighter than before, her smile was big –although still forced- and her voice was chipper as she greeted and held conversation with many of the guests. Jay had surmised that this was how this world operated, at least the world in her realm. There was forced smiles, fake interest and boring conversations she had to make it through the evening.

Jay couldn't help but wonder about this woman. He wanted to know more about her. Her past, her life, what she loved, hated, any and everything she was willing to tell him, he wanted to know. She was a natural at this, at fitting in and based off her personality, he could only assume it was self-taught. Erin loved to help, she loved to be involved, but she hated the show of it, the glitz and glamor of it all as if it was something to be watched.

When Erin finally broke away from another conversation, she approached a table, waiting to collect her numbered paddle as he approached, "That was quite an act."

She rolled her eyes jokingly, "You could see through that, huh?"

"Yeah, but that's only because I know you."

"Thank you," she receives her paddle from a volunteer before turning to face him, "It was kind of obligatory that I at least say hi to them. A few of them were senators and others were people who graciously donated to my father's campaign. It would have been rude if I didn't."

"I do not envy you," he laughs, tossing an arm around her shoulders.

"I don't envy myself either, but I am grateful."

Tucked under his arm, paddle in her left hand and right arm wrapped around his waist, she leads them towards their seat, "I'm lucky, you know?" He nods, but remains quiet, his silence hinting for her to continue, "I have two great parents. I never had to worry about food, how I'm going to pay for school, clothes on my back and a roof over my head. I kind of pressed that luck in my adolescence and a little in college, but after Nadia…you know…I realized that," she hesitates, she pauses and considers her next words carefully, "I realized that everything my parents did, all the rules they set, all the times they yelled at me, punished me, forbade me from hanging with certain people was for my best interest. I couldn't see it then, or at least I didn't want to, but I see it now. I'm grateful to be privileged, to be fortunate, and to be alive because not many people are awarded those advantages."

"Like Nadia?" He was treading on shallow water bringing her up, but when he felt her shoulders slacken, he sighed in relief.

She nodded and smiled, "Yeah, like Nadia."

Jay wanted to press for more information; he wanted to know more details, but two things stopped him: the sad, dazed look on Erin's face and some random guy from across the room calling her name. Erin wasn't ready to talk about Nadia, to tell her story to someone that didn't already know about it. And the guy calling out her name just had horrible timing, interrupting their conversation and any thought Jay may have had in inquiring more information about his girlfriend's old friend. The topic of Nadia, he felt drawn to ask. It was a painful question to ask, he knew that, but he wanted to ask anyway.

As the guy approached, the sad and dazed look on her face turned confused, her brows knitted and her head tilted to the side as the guy approached. Jay was curious. He didn't know the guy; he didn't expect to know him. It's still the early stages of their relationship and getting to know each other involved getting to know the people in each other's lives. By the look on the man's face as he jogged over, he could tell that he was comfortable with Erin. By his wardrobe, he could tell he wasn't a guest and by the nametag stuck to his buttoned-up shirt, he could tell that he was a volunteer. Maybe he's another extension to Erin's life. Maybe meeting him will show another layer to the Erin he's really trying to get to know. Jay was eager.

"Landon," the smile on Jay's face dropped at the mention of the guy's name; he wasn't so eager anymore, "what are you doing here? Take no offense but you don't fall into the income bracket that's required for these types of events."

"Don't I know it?" He chuckles, hands shoved into the pockets of his slacks, "I'm actually a paid volunteer here," he glances down at the name tag Erin must have overlooked, "I had to pick up part time work. I told you I wanted to apply to your place of work."

"What's wrong with where you currently work?"

"I was demoted. I still get cases don't get me wrong, but I don't get as many and the pay is lower." Landon steps towards her and her shoulders immediately stiffen.

Erin reflexively raised her hand and pressed it against his chest, gently pushing him away, "I told you no. If you want another job, you'll have to find it for yourself."

"Oh come on. I'll treat you to that dinner you're always pestering me about."

She chuckled, "I think you're mixing us up. You're the one who is always pestering me about dinner." Jay's stepped closer, reminding her of his presence the second his shoulder bumped against hers; she didn't forget about him, she was just preoccupied in conversation, and before Landon could argue with her about which one of them were the initiators of dinner, she turned to face her boyfriend, "Landon, this is my date, Jay."

"Also her boyfriend," Halstead extended his hand. His other hand went around Erin's waist.

Landon appeared to be surprised. He looked between the both of them, obviously caught off guard that Erin, the woman he knew was single for who knows how long now had a boyfriend, a well-known boyfriend who based off the tabloids were too opposite and different to actually attempt a relationship. Landon shakes Jay's hand slowly, "So you two are…"

"Together, yeah," Jay's grip tightened around her.

"I thought those were rumors."

"Nah," he withdraws his hand from Landon's grip, "the tabloids were right about this one."

An awkward silence fell over the trio. The two guys appeared to have some sort of a stare down. It was ridiculous. Erin moved closer to Jay, hands running over his chest as she peered up at him, "We should go find our seats."

Jay glanced down at her, eyes capturing her own. He looked about ready to kiss her but she stopped him, stepping away before his lips could touch hers. She gave him a look, one that told him that she knew what he was doing. Jay was trying to claim her, in front of Landon of all people. He was probably the guy that posed the least threat to their four day relationship. She knew Jay was territorial of what he cherished; she figured based off his relationship history or lack thereof that he had commitment issues and maybe that came from a lack of trust, but whatever reason it was, she wasn't going to validate it, she wasn't going to encourage it. She wasn't that type of woman. If someone wanted to be with her, they would have to trust her. It's as simple as that. And she had to nip it in the bud in the early stage of their relationship.

Halstead flops down in the foldable chair beside her, "You're not mad at me again, are you?"

"Nope," she retorts. She's definitely mad.

"You're definitely mad," he sighs, "Look, I'm sorry, you know I'm new at this whole relationship thing and girls normally like the territorial, jealous type thing."

"When are you going to realize that I'm not like most girls?"

Jay watches as her fingers trace the bolded number on her paddle; she's staring forward, watching as people filled in the seats around them. He nudged her shoulder with his own, "It's taking some getting used to. I haven't dated in a while. The last serious relationship I had was years ago and she was not the first daughter of the country."

"I was mad about the hickey because of my title, but I'm not mad about this because of my title," she shifts her body in the seat to turn and face him; "I am not that type of girl. I know Landon likes me," he rolls his eyes, "I know you know that too, but I don't need you acting all caveman anytime a guy shows an ounce of interest. I can take care of myself. I am perfectly capable of warding off the interests of other people; it didn't just start four days ago when we started dating. I've been doing this for years. Consider me a professional."

As the charity director comes out to speak, Jay reflects on what Erin said. With each mistake he makes, he learns just a little bit more about her. She faced forward and he continued to watch her, ignoring the awkward side glances she sent his way when she realized he was staring. This woman, this person who was completely different than every girl he has ever showed interest in, put her foot down. Most women were just happy to be standing next to him, holding his hand or hugging him to even care about if he did something to offend them or not. They didn't want to ruin the relationship –or the hookup- because he was him, he was a celebrity, a rock star. Erin didn't care about that. He felt himself panic on the inside. This is why relationships didn't work for him; he freaked too much. His heart was racing, his leg was shaking and his hands were sweating. Maybe they dived into this relationship too fast, maybe Rixton was right about them being too different, maybe they won't work out.

And just as soon as those doubts started to seep its way into his mind, he felt her hand slide over and rest atop his knee, comforting him with just the slight squeeze of her hand.

The auctioneer was now on the stage, talking in rapid speed as he read off the starting value, only increasing it as different people in the audience raised their paddles. Jay didn't care though; he knows he should but he's too focused and drawn in by the woman next to him. Her hand gripping the paddle on her lap as her foot tapped impatiently. She was up to something; that much he could obviously tell.

And that question is soon answered the second he sees her paddle fly into the air.

Jay stared harder, "Er…" She doesn't say anything, too focused on the auction. Erin had initiated the starting bid of five thousand; it increased by a hundred from a guy two rows behind her and then jumped up by five hundred from a guy a few seats over in their row.

Erin's paddle pops back up into the air, "$6,000."

Now he's too curious. He doesn't want to look away from her but he feels the need to see just exactly what has her willing to spend six grand. And that's when he notices the passes. She's making a bid on the passes that would grant the owner to meet their favorite sports team.

The bid continues to rise between the three people around the room, paddles flying into the air with each number called out. Erin is persistent though. When the bid reaches eight grand, one person drops out of it, deeming the passes unworthy to be bought at a higher value. Erin continues, throwing her paddle in the air while glaring at the back of her competitor's head; he wasn't giving up, not until Erin shouted, "$10,000."

Jay looks at her, intensity in both of their eyes, "Wow."

Erin sets the paddle back on her lap, content with her win and Jay is beaming ear to ear, that drive, that determination and that purpose in her eyes as her face beamed in pride. Halstead's arm was slung over the back of her seat and he leaned over, pressing the softest of kisses against her lips. He draws away just as soon as his lips settle on hers.

The remainder of the auction goes off without a hitch. She doesn't bid anymore and he doesn't blame her. She just dropped ten grand on two passes to meet her favorite sports team. Jay has absolutely no idea what sports she likes, what team she favors and who she plans to take with her. He has a lot to learn about her. By the end of the auction, Erin rose to her feet, grabbed his hand and pulled him up as well, "We have to go pick up my prize."

"Is it really considered a prize if you paid for it?"

She shrugs, leading him off towards the collection table, "I don't really know," she hands her paddle over and collects the envelope filled with two passes, "Here."

"What?" He glances down at the envelope extended towards him.

Erin rolls her eyes and repeats, "Here."

"I can't accept that."

"The ONLY reason I bid for them was for you," she grabs his hand and slaps the envelope inside of his opened palm, "Ten thousand big ones. Please don't waste my money."

"It's not wasted if it's for a good cause." He repeated her earlier mantra.

She rolls her eyes, "You know what I mean."

Just as it was decided before entering the building, Erin and Jay had met up with her guards in the lobby. This morning Erin had kept her promise; she called her guards when she was ready to leave the hotel, but informed them to drive over in two separate cars –hers and their government official one. She wanted to drive her and Jay to the charity dinner; she didn't mind if they followed, but she enjoyed this bit of independence no matter how small it seemed.

"Alright Er," Atwater approached, leading the three other men over, "what's next on our agenda?"

"I'm going to drop Jay back off at his hotel and then we're going to laser tag."

"Who is included in this we?" Roman pitched in.

"You guys, myself and Annie."

Dawson shakes his head, "We're not playing."

"And why not?"

"We're on the clock. That's unprofessional."

"I don't give a damn, come on guys," Erin practically pleaded, reaching out towards them, "If you don't join us then it'll be just me and Annie. _Please_ ," she makes eye contact with each one of them individually, "I don't ever beg but I will literally get down on both of my knees and beg," they look at her in disbelief.

And she takes that as a challenge, taking a step back before slowly lowering herself down to her knees. Sorensen is the first to speak up, looking around nervously, "Erin, what are you doing?"

"People are staring," Dawson muttered, keeping his voice low.

Roman scolded, "Erin, get up."

"I am not above begging," She sits on the floor, resting on bended knees, "and I don't care who's looking but please you can't leave me alone with her."

"That's enough of that," Roman said through gritted teeth, gripping her arm and pulling her to her feet, "you're embarrassing yourself. Erin, your friend flew all the way here to hang with you, not us, _you_! You invited her down and now she's here and now you have to deal with it."

"I see why you keep them around," Jay nudges her shoulder with his own.

"Do you guys ever choose to not be the voice of reason?" Her arms folded over her chest.

"Don't act like a kid," Atwater tossed his muscular arm around her shoulders, "I'll let you know the plan. You go drop your dude off at his hotel and we'll pick up Annie and meet you at the laser tag place."

"You're not going to tail me?"

"As long as you stay in the car after you drop him off, you'll be fine," Dawson spoke up, withdrawing the keys to the truck out of his pocket, "but call one of us once you drop him off and call one of us as soon as you get to the place."

"Yes sir," she nods.

"I'm serious, Erin. We're giving you a bit of freedom here."

Sorensen nods to back up Dawson's reply, "If your parents find out, it could cost us our job."

It doesn't take long for them to decide to walk Erin to her car, even with Jay close by, they felt more comfortable when their sights were on her. Erin is under Atwater's arm, being one of her closest friends –and her favorite guard- she always saw him like a brother and found warmth and comfort in his presence and his teddy bear-esque physique.

Erin is in the driver's seat; Jay in the passenger. She doesn't pull out of the parking lot until her guards are long gone. A sigh falls from her lips and her shoulders relax, "It's just the two of us again," she focuses on the road as she merges into traffic, "peace at last."

"…maybe not for long," Jay shifts in his seat; his fingers toying with a loose strand from his sweater.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Annie," she looks over at the mention of her friend's name, "more precisely your relationship with her. I thought she was your best friend."

"I don't have a best friend, Jay. You know that." Her statement is final. And he's okay with that; the title of Annie is not what he wants to talk about, instead it's, "Do you ever get the sense that she's using you? Annie I mean."

Her mouth shuts. She swallows dryly. She only reopens her mouth to bite down upon her bottom lip. Her shoulders are tense. It's obvious just how visibly upset she is…but Jay purposely overlooks it to pry for more information, "It's just that…I noticed when," he takes a deep breath, "I noticed when we were all out yesterday, you paid for everything. I could tell you didn't want to but you did anyway. I'm just curious is all."

"I don't want to talk about it."

Figures.

"…fine, if you don't want to tell me about that then how about you tell me about last night?"

Erin's eyes seem to focus intently on the road, staring harder than normal, "What are you talking about? What about last night?"

"You seemed off when you came over. What happened?"

Erin's hands grip around the rim of the steering wheel, "We uh, we got into a fight."

"Who?"

"My dad, Annie and I," she sighed, a mask of hurt covering her face, "It was actually them versus me. It was an argument…about you. And I pissed my dad off a lot. Annie felt it was necessary to add in her two cents. I ended up storming out. Annie and I parted on an okay note but I really don't want to face her right now, pretending that everything is okay when it's not."

Jay looked at her, like really looked at her and took her in. She was blinking away the emotion that fought to shine in her eyes. She did everything in her power to focus on the road, her fingers were drumming against the wheel and she was slowly inhaling and exhaling breaths of oxygen. He sits up in his seat and reaches his hand over and she flinches. He frowns, "Pull over Erin." She rolled her eyes.

"That's really not necessary."

"Erin, pull over."

"Fine," she hit the signal and pulled over onto the shoulder of the empty road, one of which Erin had never driven on. Her GPS was taking her through an alternative route back to the hotel, a route that had less traffic than the main roads. She put the car in park and shifted to look at him.

Halstead unbuckled his seatbelt, "I don't know what was said about me," he whispered, voice coming across lighter than he expected as he reached over to run his hand through her hair, "but I'm all in Erin. There is nothing that is going to come between us."

He doesn't give her an opportunity to reply, instead he tugs her by the wrist, motioning for her to climb over the middle arm rest and situate herself on his lap, facing him, wrapping her arms around his neck and leaning into his embrace, "I wish they could see what I see in you."

He released a heavy breath before he wrapped his arms around her waist, burrowing his face into her brunette hair, "As long as you see it, I'm okay with that."

"What if that's not enough?" her voice is low, "I really want us to work out. I like you _a lot_ ," she finally admitted; her face is buried in the crook of his neck and it muffles her voice. He still hears her and the break in her voice causes him to tighten his arms around her waist.

"We'll make sure it's enough," he reassures, hand running up and down her back gently, "I promise, okay?" he feels her head nod against the crook of his neck, "And I like you a lot too."

Erin pulls away only to look into his eyes. He's telling the truth. That much she can tell. The way he's looking at her, she's never seen that look cast in her direction before. Erin smiled just as his hand came up to caress the side of her face, drawing her head towards him so he could press the softest kiss against her forehead, showing her just how deep his affection goes. The affection he has for her goes far beyond sex, it's an affection that he's never showed for anyone ever. And as she goes back to her seat, he realizes that it kind of frightens him.

-x-

Annie is out of breath. Erin is out of breath. Both of their faces are flushed, splotchy and somewhat coated with sweat. It had been an intense game of laser tag; two games back to back that lasted way longer than any of them intended. A pack agreement was reached between them the second a group of college kids had beat them in the game _two times_ in a row. Erin had an image to uphold and she was not against a little innocent bribery to keep it that way.

"I can't believe you treated them to dinner," Annie laughed, taking in the cool breeze of the night sky, "It was like ten of them."

"Our score was embarrassing," Erin chuckled, feeling Annie link their arms together, "they didn't just beat us Annie; they creamed us. And they promised not to gloat too much the second I agreed to treat everyone to pizza."

"You let them talk you into it," Annie shook her head in disbelief, "You're too nice for your own good. You got to learn how to say no, Er."

"…say no to everyone but you, huh?"

Erin felt herself jerked back when Annie suddenly stops walking. Their arms still intertwined and looped together; her guards are spread out, two walking up ahead and two gradually following behind. The spring temperature dropped at night and since Erin had changed her clothes –opting for a pair of yoga pants and a shirt that covered her hickey- to make laser tag easier to play, she hadn't really considered how outside would feel. The cars were already parked; they were heading home, walking along the sidewalk in a rush in hopes of getting inside the building. Erin could envision the heat that awaits her. She craved it. Unfortunately, since Annie's feet appear to be planted on the cement and she made no move to release Erin's arm that vision of warmth was going to be in the distant future.

Her neon green sneakers seemed to be the most interesting thing because that's all Erin could focus on. She saw the look on Annie's face; she looked hurt. And Erin felt horrible for putting that look there, "I'm sorry."

"What did you say to me yesterday," Annie rhetorically asked, tapping her chin in thought for dramatics, "Oh yeah; you're only apologizing to save face," she releases her arm and takes a step back, "I can stay in a motel tonight, Erin. I don't mind."

"That's not the issue. I don't mind you staying with me. I want it. Need it actually, but that just sounds desperate of me."

"What's the problem then, Erin? Talk to me. We used to talk about everything."

"…back when we were 15 we did."

"Don't do that."

Erin takes a step back, "Don't do what?"

"Don't try to undermine our friendship, Erin. You always do that. You've been doing that since Nadia died!"

" _Don't_ bring her into this. You didn't know her. You've never met her. You know _nothing_ about her so don't bring her up and act like you do! You don't know anything."

Annie bites her bottom lip, knowing she's misspoken but honestly too riled up to care. She bit her tongue long enough, for years, and it appeared that this was the time for her to finally get it all off her chest, "I know that she was your best friend. I know that you blamed yourself for her death. I know that you refuse to see anyone as a best friend out of fear that you'll forget and replace her. I know that Kelly, even though I haven't met him, is as close a best friend to you as I probably am and you still refuse to call anyone that. I know that Nadia wouldn't want you to blame yourself. I know that you're lonely, really lonely. I know that you have disdain for the word best friend and that has everything to do with Nadia. I know that-"

"It's just a stupid fucking label, Annie!" Erin's high-pitched voice causes her guards to approach, "It's just a title; it's not that fucking serious," she feels Atwater's hand fall to rest on her shoulder in an attempt to calm her down; it doesn't work, "It means nothing. It's useless. You wouldn't want to be my best friend, _trust me_ ; I'm saving you and Kelly a lot of trouble."

"I voted for him," Annie admitted; she changed the conversation the second she saw Erin's lips quiver. Her goal wasn't to make her cry. That's the last thing she wanted.

Erin uses the back of her hand to wipe her eyes and nods overly eager, "He won."

"Yeah he did. It was pretty much a landslide victory, his opponent had no chance," Annie approached her, reaching for Erin's wrist to lower her hand from her face, "I just want you to be happy. That's why I'm hesitant about Jay. I know Kelly, Travis, Justin, _me_ , I know we make you happy and that's all I want for you."

Erin's phone vibrates in her pocket but she doesn't break the moment to check it. She lets whoever is calling go to voicemail. This is a required conversation between her and Annie. It has been a long time coming.

"I am happy," Erin adamantly asserted, "I am so happy because of all of those people you just named and because of Jay too. My parents, my job, my philanthropy, I have so many reasons to be happy Annie and yeah what happened to Nadia left a wound on my heart, but that doesn't mean I'm unhappy. It just means I'm a little cautious."

"And I'm a little spoiled," Annie shrugs her shoulders.

"A little?"

"Oh shut up," Annie chuckled, bumping shoulders with her as they resume their walk towards the condo, "I guess I got a little carried away," she purposely didn't look Erin's way to see the look of disbelief on her face, "okay, I got carried away a lot. I got comfortable. It's just when I want something, realize I can't afford it and go to put it back, you offer and it has become so hard for me to turn it down. I'm sorry for taking advantage of that. And my earlier comment still stands, you need to learn how to say no, especially to me."

"I love you," Erin intertwined their arms once again.

The duo, led and followed by secret service, walked into the lobby of her high-rise. She waved at a few of her neighbors that lived on different floors as she made her way to the elevator. Her phone vibrated again –she ignored it once more. Annie was filling her in on some story Travis told her early this morning. It was one of his many hilarious tales. Erin loved that kid. Her phone pinged, "You should check that. It could be important."

Erin pulls out her cell, focused down on the screen as she walks out of the elevator. She sees two missed calls and one voicemail message from her dad's campaign manager. This couldn't be good. She played the voicemail, putting the phone to her ear and listened in, _"Erin, look at social media, now."_ She deleted the message.

Her heart rate is racing but her face remains calm. No one would ever know how nervous she is right now. She kept a relaxed face, expression unreadable as she tapped on one of her social media apps. _Instagram_. Her mentions are through the roofs, her tags are doubled that and she doesn't even know where to start. Erin clicks on the most recent tag –a picture- of her, zoomed in and focused on her neck –her hickey. Her breath hitches. Now she's positive her emotions are evident on her face. By the tone of her dad's campaign manager, this was not good.

Someone watched the interview. Someone saw the hickey before she could cover it with her hair. Someone paused the video and took a screenshot. And now someone posted it. She was pretty sure if she went to her other social media accounts those notifications would all relate to this. It's so many screenshots, from different angles, at different focuses and some with different filters. It's too much. She felt Annie's hand rest on her lower back to escort her into her home; her guards must have been finished searching it.

"What's wrong?"

"Get on social media."

"Which one?"

Erin shakes her head, "It doesn't matter."

Annie doesn't remove her hand from the small of Erin's back. She uses her free hand to reach inside of her pocket and withdraw her cell. It takes a few seconds for her to see exactly what has Erin as white as a ghost, "Oh Erin…"

"I know." Her voice is covered and masked by her cell vibrating in her hand. It sounds louder than normal. Her senses are heightened by all of this, "Hello," she doesn't hesitate to answer.

"By the sound of your voice, I take it you looked at social media."

"Yes Trudy," Erin whispered.

"And?"

"And what?"

Platt sighed, "Do I have to do all of the thinking? How are you going to fix this? It needs to be fixed. We can't have this a year before elections, Erin. Come on," her dad's campaign manager didn't hesitate to bust balls, but she always had a soft spot for her, "you know I like you. I hate to get on you, but you need to fix this. I don't know how since it's on the internet now, but figure it out, especially before your dad gets wind of it."

"Yes ma'am."

"And in the future, watch your image a little more carefully."

The call ends.

Annie is no longer beside her. Now, she's in the kitchen, pouring themselves both a glass of wine, "What did she say?"

"I need to fix this."

"What are you going to do?"

Erin flops down onto the couch, phone in hand as Annie walks over, holding out a full glass of wine, "Thank you," she gulps down half of it before setting it down beside her, "And I honestly don't know yet. I mean…what's the worst that could happen?"

"Your dad doesn't get elected, your reputation is slaughtered or you lose your job."

"…over a hickey?"

"Public image and all of that, remember?"

Erin clicks on another photo, it's of her hickey and it's posted by a fan page account that combined her middle name –Lindsay- with Jay's last name –Halstead. It was one of many fan pages she has come across since the announcement of their relationship. The pages were filled with paparazzi pictures of them together –and separately-, it was filled with article clippings of unconfirmed gossip and the one photo of them that Jay has posted on his account. They were dedicated, Erin will give them that. Erin reads the caption beneath the photo of her hickey.

 _He left a freaking hickey on her neck 3 OMG! I'm dying! #Goals_

She was tempted to comment. She actually came close to it by typing up a somewhat sarcastic comment –that was definitely going to be misconstrued as anger and irritation- before deleting it. Erin clicks on the list of comments beneath the photo, ranging from sweet comments of people who are happy they're together, to some jealous ones from fans who cannot believe he's taken and a few sprinkled in that are honestly not worth repeating. Erin scratches her forehead even though it doesn't itch; she's screwed. Another comment loads up, one that made all the nasty comments before sound like compliments. This is exactly the reason why she was angry earlier.

Erin takes a screenshot, ensuring the photo showed the picture, the fan page account name, the caption and the comments beneath it before texting it to her boyfriend. She wanted him to see firsthand why she had a problem with this. None of the comments were against him. If he was mentioned, it was simply in reference to them being together. He wasn't called names, he wasn't degraded, his job wasn't mentioned and he wasn't metaphorically dragged through the mud.

"It's going to pass, right?"

"Yeah, once a celebrity gives them something else to talk about it will, but it's the waiting that's going to drive me insane." She sets her phone down, lifting her glass to take another sip of wine.

"I can't imagine."

Her phone buzzes and she lifts it, knowing it'll be Jay that had replied. And while she expected a response, she didn't expect to get a screenshot sent back to her. It was the same picture posted by the same fan page with the same caption and comments underneath it. The only difference is there's an added comment to the phone, one with a blue icon beside the name –it's an official account. It's Jay's official account. He left a comment under the photo, tagging every person who left a nasty remark.

 _Mind your fucking business._

Erin's eyebrows shoot up her forehead. She almost drops her wine glass. She didn't send the screenshot to him for him to seek out the account and comment. She just wanted him to understand, to see where she's coming from and why she reacted like she did earlier. Erin immediately exits out of the screenshot and goes back to the actual page; she opens up the comments and scrolls through. The likes for his comment are rapidly increasing. More comments have been added since he took the screenshot and sent it. The new comments are filled with admirations, praising him for defending 'his girl' and even the original poster had commented, using emojis and abbreviations as she freaked out over Jay Halstead leaving a comment underneath her photo. She continues to scan the new comments as they pop up and finally, there's another one from Jay; this time he tagged the original poster in it, _Can you please delete this photo?_

Seconds later, it's gone. And her phone starts to ring; it's him and she answers right away, "I told you I have your back," he's smug.

"You never told me that."

"Well I'm telling you now."

Erin watches Annie get up and quietly disappear into her guest bedroom leaving her alone to finish her conversation with her boyfriend, "You do know that was only one copy of the photo," she kicks off her sneakers, "I'm pretty sure that picture and all of your comments have been screenshot and are currently being posted everywhere. I'll bet you 20 bucks that if you turn on celebrity gossip, they're talking about that right now."

"Nah, I'll pass, I'll easily lose that money."

Erin hops to her feet, leaving her shoes and empty wine glass behind as she walks into her bedroom, "Sorry I didn't make it back over there. I'm really exhausted from laser tag and emotions."

"Emotions?"

"I don't want to get into it," she places him on speaker as she goes back to Instagram, "I really need to just delete my social media accounts. These pictures are everywhere."

"So what? What's the worst that can happen?"

He's so cool, calm and collected. She definitely needed someone like him in her life, someone who wouldn't overreact, someone who would level her out and someone who would defend her. It's the little things.

"I'm really starting to like you," she admitted; her voice is as light as it has ever been.

"Fortunately for us, the feeling goes both ways," his tone matches hers, falling soft only to bring back up the bravado with his next words, "Alright Erin, that's one picture down, probably thousands more to go. Send me the next fan page and I'll get started."


	11. Better Impressions

By the round of applause that continues to drift from the auditorium, down the long corridors and into the room backstage, Erin felt confident that her message got across to the hundreds of people who came out to listen. Being back in Chicago has always given her a buzz feeling; it was home, it was the place she was born and raised. And she appreciated this university, for bringing her in as a guest speaker and giving her an opportunity to not only advocate but to come back, even if it was for a few days.

Erin is at the refreshments table backstage, pouring a glass of water to relax her dry throat as Jay leads his brother, bandmates and Burgess down the hall. She has no idea he's here. He never told her he was even thinking about attending. And she honestly didn't want to ask, after the two events he attended with her back in D.C. she wanted to give him a break. Jay raised his arms and allowed himself to be patted down, "Is Erin in there?" He nods towards the closed door.

"Yeah," Atwater nods, signaling for Jay to step forward.

The only reason they were even allowed to step backstage is because security, Erin's guards, and everyone who has access to television, internet, newspapers and magazines know about her relationship with the lead singer of District 21. Jay crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the closed door as he watched secret service search every layer of his friends. Kim passed the search next, "Did you let her know we were coming?"

Jay shakes his head, "She doesn't even know _I'm_ coming."

"Oh gosh," Burgess inhaled a shaky breath, "She doesn't like surprises."

"How do you even know that?" Adam chuckled, pulling his wife into his arms.

"I've seen interviews Adam," Kim states matter of fact, as if that was obvious, "And one comes to mind when I think of her and surprises. She hates them. Oh gosh, she hates them."

"Relax babe," his lips brush over her forehead and his hand palms her face, "Relax."

A breath she hadn't realize she was holding was released, "That's easy for you to say. You're not about to meet the person you look up to the most."

"You're older than her," Jay remarked.

"…by one year! And who cares about that anyway, there's no age requirement."

Mouse had just finished being searched, "I get what you're saying, Kim. My palms have been sweating and my heart has been racing ever since Jay came up with this idea."

"You two are ridiculous," Rixton stepped up next to be searched, "She's just a girl."

"She's not _just_ a girl," was asserted in unison from not only Jay, but Mouse, Kim, Will, Ruzek and even a few of the secret servicemen.

"I'm going to need you to open your arms and spread your legs," Roman orders.

"Are you serious right now?" He doesn't take Roman's orders; instead he crosses his arms defiantly and leans against the wall, "That's a bit excessive. I'm not a threat. I'm not doing that."

"It wasn't a suggestion," Atwater asserted, moving towards him as if intent on physically moving him away, "We have a job to do and if you're not going to follow orders then I will happily escort you off the premises."

"That's won't be needed," Will steps forward to do damage control; his hand comes to rest upon Kenny's shoulder and the look that he gives him speaks for itself, "He'll comply."

Rixton is the last one left to be checked. With a heavy sigh he steps forward, spreads his legs and opens his arms, "This is unnecessary."

"She's the daughter of the president," Ruzek reminded.

"Still unnecessary…"

Erin filled her glass up a second time. It's settling the hunger in her stomach. Normally, the venue provides food for the guest speaker but this one didn't. She came on an empty stomach expecting there to be food. Sorensen had a stick of gum that she chewed until it was time for her speech and now that her speech is over, it seemed the gum had only tricked her mind and teased her stomach. The growls had only gotten louder and water was starting to not be enough.

With one hand resting over her stomach and the other covering her cup, she needed the dean of the university to hurry up back here so she can leave and find some form of sustenance. This wasn't her first time public speaking; she knew it would be considered rude to just leave without saying goodbye, but it had to be considered just as rude to leave a guest alone, waiting and hungry. Her stomach growled for the umpteenth time, this time twice as loud as the last, "Don't tell me they're starving you."

She recognized that voice, "That's what it's feeling like…" The sound of Erin's voice brought the entire room to a halt, silencing everyone's thoughts and voice as each person inside whipped around to see who had spoken.

Erin sets her empty glass down, flattens out her light pink, pencil skirt. Her white blouse is tucked inside and she immediately steps back into her white heels, "Well isn't this a surprise," she turns and smiles at him, overlooking the other people in the room as she approaches, "Fair warning for the future though, I'm not too fond of surprises."

A muffled, "I told you so…" fills the room.

"Hi," Erin said when she stood in front of Jay, taking a hold of his hand in front of all of his friends, "I am glad that you came though." She could see all of his emotions, every ounce of feeling she had for him was being reflected back towards her.

"Hi," he grinned.

Jay was entirely too attractive for his own good. He wore dark wash jeans, a black button up and a leather jacket; this is a look that continues to make Erin swoon. She moved in closer, it's obvious what her intentions are, "I'm going to kiss you now and we can catch up afterwards."

Jay nodded, calling up to his friends over his shoulder, "Guys!"

It's Ruzek who responds, "What?"

"Mind looking elsewhere," he doesn't check to see if they listen. He just assumes.

And without wasting another moment, his hand cups the side of her face as the two lean in towards each other. He brushes their lips together in a lingering closed mouth kiss that lasts entirely too short for his liking because she's well aware of the company in the room. Even though they're watching, they're only a few feet away. He sighs disappointedly when she pulls away, "maybe later," she runs her thumb across his bottom lip, wiping away a smudge of lipstick.

"I'm going to hold you to that."

Erin looked passed Jay curiously, seeing the back of his friends and brother. She was about to meet the people who matter the most to him. This isn't serious since they've been dating less than a week; this is probably more coincidental than anything but the fact remains, she's about to meet the people who know him best. When her eyes fell back to Jay, she was smiling, "Jay?"

In a split second, his lips were on hers again and whatever question she was about to ask is lost in translation. Instead, she gives in and moves her lips against his, her hands coming to wrap around him, pulling him as close to her as physically possible. She forgets they're not alone. She forgets about her reputation. She forgets that any second now the dean of the university will be walking in. All she knows is that it's her and Jay, just them together.

"Sorry babe," he draws away first this time, "I kind of got carried away."

Erin shook her head, smiling, "You don't see me complaining," she made her way around him to finally approach his friends whose backs remained facing her, "Hi everyone."

Silence. Her greeting is met with total silence.

Jay speaks up for her, breaking the intense silence that had settled over the room, "Guys," he sounds amused; he enjoyed the stunned silence his friends were in as they slowly, and somewhat nervously, turned around. He leaves her side in order to approach his friends, "Let me introduce you. Erin this is Kenny," she moves forward, "Kenny meet Erin."

"Hi," Erin extends her hand.

And Rixton stares at it, "Hey." He makes no move to shake it, choosing instead to walk around her and head over to pour himself a glass of water.

"Really man?" It's Jay that speaks up, pushing Erin's hand down from its extended position.

Rixton just shrugs, grabbing an empty glass to fill, "What?"

"You're just going to disrespect my girlfriend in front of me."

"I didn't want to touch her," he brings the glass to his lips for a small sip, "wouldn't want her guards to think I pose a threat or something."

"Am I missing something?" Erin whispered, glancing over her shoulder to gauge her boyfriend's expression, "and by the look on your face, I'm definitely missing something."

"It's not important. Rixton is just bitter," Jay brushes it off, "Sorry," he apologizes on his bandmate's behalf.

"It's fine, Jay. Just introduce me to everyone else." She's always the bigger person. Reputation has to be maintained.

Halstead's hand comes to rest against her lower back as he resumes the introductions, "This is Ruxek," his drummer eagerly shakes her hand, yanking her arm up and down and up and down, "Alright dude, I would prefer it if you didn't tear my girlfriend's arm out of its socket."

"Sorry," Adam quickly lets it go.

"It's quite alright."

"You've kind of met Will already," Jay waves his hand towards his manager.

His brother is scratching the back of his neck bashfully, "Hi Ms. Voight; it's nice to see you again." Will chooses against extending his hand for a handshake; instead he continually scratches the back of his head, timidly avoiding eye contact.

"Likewise and call me Erin, Ms. Voight is my mother."

Jay anticipated this moment the most. It was Mouse and Burgess left –her two biggest fans and supporters. As his brother goes to grab Rixton, pull him off into the corner and scold him, he turns Erin towards his bass player and their wardrobe consultant. He nudges her side, encouraging her to step forward, smiling as both Mouse and Burgess stare, mouths wide-open in catatonic silence, "You're the…you're the um, the um first daughter." Mouse was the first to recover from the shock but Jay had honestly never seen him so nervous.

"Nice to meet you Mouse," she extends her hand out towards him.

"And you know who I am?"

"Yeah, I've been listening to you guys' music."

Mouse's mouth falls open, "You listen to our music. Erin Voight listens to our music."

"And last but not least, this is Kimberly Burgess, she keeps me looking good," Jay piped up the second he saw Kim growing restless and impatient.

"I guess I should thank you for that," Erin teased, eyeing Jay flirtatiously before turning back to extend her hand towards the woman, "It can't be easy to do all of that by yourself."

Kim remained frozen; she doesn't even notice the hand extended in front of her until Ruzek takes a hold of his wife's hand and directs it towards Erin's palm. The action snaps her out of whatever trance she had fell in, "You're…you're…you're Erin Voight."

"…yeah, well at least that's what they tell me. Hi," they briefly shake hands.

"I just want to say that you're amazing."

Erin's grin widens, "Thank you. Did you two enjoy the speech?" She opens the conversation back up to include Mouse, knowing from past discussion with Jay that he was just as big a fan of her as Kim is, "I always find myself nervous in the beginning until I get in the groove of things."

Jay did his best to mask his joy. He's watching three of his favorite people communicate with one another, even though Erin was doing most of the talking. Kim and Mouse stood staring at her as if they have yet to come to terms with actually meeting her.

"Erin," Atwater poked his head into the room, "the dean is ready to see you now. He figured you both could do some photo ops before everyone leaves."

"Excuse me," Erin maneuvered through them, "He didn't mention anything about photo ops when he invited me to speak."

"I guess it was a last minute change of plans," Roman chimes in.

Sorensen pokes his head in, "Want us to tell him no?"

"No," she chuckles, "You're my bodyguards not my personal assistant. I'll suck it up and take the pictures. I just need five minutes and we can head on out."

The door shuts behind them. All of her guards out of the room, leaving her in the presence of District 21 and two of their staff members.

"When was the last time you ate?" Jay stepped forward before she could apologize for her upcoming departure.

"…last night," she responds without much thought, "Usually these events provide food for their guest speakers, but I guess this time it was out of the budget."

His shoulders dropped at her answer, "Join us for lunch."

"Yeah, join us," Mouse finally finds his voice, eagerly stepping forward to chime in.

"I don't want to intrude."

Burgess brushes off the modest comment, "You're not intruding. We wouldn't have offered if we didn't want you to come. I don't even think you're capable of intruding."

"You guys act like she hung the moon and the stars," Rixton retorts from somewhere over in the corner, drinking another glass of water to nurse the slight hangover from last night.

His comment goes ignored as Jay speaks back up, "Come on babe, you're only in town for a few days and eating is kind of a necessity."

"I shouldn't be long," it's her way of agreeing; she turns to leave, but Jay caught her hand and pulled her back into him, kissing her deeply before having to let go, "I'll meet you back in here."

Jay is forced to let her go, to watch her straighten her hair and leave out of the room. He had been with her for the last couple of days and soon they were both going to be faced with separation. He had performances. She had work. It was still new in their relationship. And while he really liked her, he feared what the separation would do to their relationship, what it would do to him, especially when other women, fans included threw themselves at him. He could do this.

Burgess nudges his side and he glances down at her, "I like this new you."

This new him. He stuffs his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket as he considers it. Yeah, he could definitely do this.

-x-

Someone –no one can remember who- chose a restaurant a little outside of Chicago. If it was out of the city, the chances of paparazzi finding them were lower. Erin's guards ordered food to-go and are camped out in the rented truck, casing the place for any suspicious behavior. Will, Kim, Erin and the band are seated in a booth; three people on each side and a chair pulled up at the front for the seventh person. Erin is boxed in against the wall, Jay in the middle and Mouse on the end. Kim sits across from her, also boxed in against the wall with Ruzek beside her and Will on the end. Rixton is sitting in the added chair.

The sunglasses on Erin's face obscure her appearance; the band members don't really care about where they're spotted. They embrace it since technically it's all a part of the job. Even as they sit, food ordered, and patiently waiting for their drinks to arrive, they sign autographs from the brave fans that worked up enough nerve to approach them.

Erin sits comfortably, tucked into the corner and looking down at her phone every time someone approaches her table. Jay had kept his hand on her leg for almost the entire time, stealing kisses from her regardless of his friends' presence or the people capturing photos. He could barely keep his hands off of her and she wasn't complaining so he didn't find it in himself to stop.

So much for being inconspicuous.

Their drinks are brought to the table and when the waitress lets her name slip, she forgoes the sunglasses and tosses them into her purse. It was useless. Everyone knew who she was. She had accepted her hot chocolate with a grateful smile and brought the mug up to her lips to take a cautious sip, "Yummy." She grabbed the small bowl of marshmallows she ordered on the side.

"I didn't vote for your father," Rixton's words fill the table with tension and discomfort.

Erin dropped a few marshmallows inside of her hot chocolate, "I figured."

"He just seemed shady and suspicious," Rixton felt the need to elaborate, "He probably broke a lot of laws in his life. I couldn't trust him. He's probably a liar."

"Aren't all politicians?" Erin kept her rebuttal light but the growing need to defend her father started to settle in.

"All politicians don't run for the office of the president," he retorted, finishing off his glass of soda, "all politicians' daughters aren't currently dating one of my closest friends."

"Look, I know you aren't too fond of me-"

"That's putting it lightly," he interrupted.

"…but you don't know me," she finished her earlier remark.

"I know women like you."

"Is that so?"

"Alright that's enough," Jay avowed, waving for Mouse to exit the booth, "Kenny, can I speak to you for a minute? Actually, can we have a brief band meeting really quick?" His friend shrugs and rises from his seat; Will and his other bandmates rise too. He watches them walk over towards the jukebox, Will searching his pocket for coins to pass the time by searching for music to play. Jay hesitates in his seat, hand still on her lap and he glances from his band to Erin, back and forth at least two or three times, "I'm sorry."

"You have absolutely nothing to apologize for."

He shrugs, "Doesn't mean I'm not sorry. I didn't invite you out with us just for you to have to defend your dad. I don't know what's gotten into Rixton; he's never acted like that before."

"You've never been in a committed relationship like this before," Kim chimed in.

"I'll be back," he leaned forward, brushing his lips over Erin's before drawing away.

Erin doesn't respond. She nods and watches him walk away. Her hands cup around her mug of hot chocolate and she brings it up to her lips to take a larger gulp than before. In her peripheral, she can see them; it's too loud in the diner for her to hear but based off the body language, none of them are happy with Rixton, especially Jay.

"Jay is really…really into you Erin."

She draws her attention away from the band and across her seat towards Burgess, "Is that so?"

It's obvious she's playing it cool. Her outside demeanor is relaxed but inside she's totally freaking out.

"I have eyes," Kim reminded her as if that was the obvious answer, "You two are really great together. He's changed…for the better. And you might not notice, but when you're not looking or paying attention, he stares at you like you're the only person in the room."

Erin rolls her eyes, "No he doesn't."

"He looks at you like you hung the freaking stars," Burgess sets down her cup of coffee and straightens her posture, all hints of amusement gone from her face, "I'm serious Erin. I've known him for a very long time, I've seen him with women, I've seen him a long time ago attempt a relationship and it's much different than it is now. You two have known each other for a month, have gone on a few dates that weren't serious but have only been officially dating for less than a week and the look he gives you…it's hard to explain."

Erin quirks her eye, "Jay told you all of that? He's told you about the month we've been hanging out and the change in our relationship?"

"Not exactly," the nervousness from earlier today comes back to Kim as she responds, "I get all my entail from social media."

"You shouldn't believe everything you read."

Kim glances down and runs her finger over the rim of her cup. She's blushing and the tint to her cheeks causes Erin to laugh. She's honestly never had this affect on people, at least not that she's noticed. Burgess was avoiding eye contact, finding her thumb tracing the mug more calming and distracting than meeting her eyes. She swallowed hard, looking up to find Erin staring at her, waiting patiently to hear what she had to say next, "You're uh, you're right, but when you're a big fan of someone, you find any means to stay updated on their life."

"And I'm not faulting you for that, I'm just saying unless it comes from my mouth or Jay's for that matter just believe it with caution."

With her hands wrapped around her warm mug of coffee, she stares down into the cup, watching the ripples of black coffee move throughout the mug with every small shake she gives it. It's still hard for her to believe she actually met the first daughter, she's having lunch with her and right now she's having a conversation, just the two of them. Kim looks back up and takes in Erin's calm demeanor; her eyes open and concerned as she takes her in, "Are you alright, Kim?"

"Do you like him?" Burgess doesn't directly answer her question.

"What do you mean?"

"Jay," she clarifies, "Do you like him?"

"Of course, I wouldn't be sitting here willingly getting insulted by his bandmate if I didn't."

That's true.

"Good," Burgess releases a sigh of relief, when she realizes how her last comment may have sounded, "Not you getting insulted, I mean, good that you like him," she clarifies once again, "We were kind of giving up on Jay ever finding someone he liked enough to date. And when Will expressed that he needed an image and reputation change, I thought it was going to be a waste of time telling him that, but then he met you."

Erin's posture straightens, "When?"

"Pardon?"

Her shoulders are tight, "When did Will tell Jay that he needed to change his reputation?"

"It was after the coffee incident." Kim isn't picking up on what Erin is thinking.

"Was it before we started hanging out?"

"Yes," And suddenly, Burgess realized her mistake and quickly jumped up to amend it, "but that's not why he's with you. I swear that's not why. Jay would never do something like that."

"Why not? It works for his bad boy reputation."

"Yeah, that's true, but he likes you _a lot_ ," Kim glances over to see Jay nodding along to whatever her husband is saying, but his eyes are on them, questioning, sending off a message to Kim to make sure everything is okay, "Please tell me you believe me. Please tell me that I did not ruin this. I don't think he would ever forgive me."

"I believe you and you didn't ruin anything. I knew Jay was seeking to change his reputation but I just didn't know how much it lined up with him meeting me."

"That was purely coincidental."

Erin brings her mug of hot chocolate up to her lips to take the smallest sip imaginable, "Can I ask you a question, Kim?"

"You can ask me anything."

"You always go on tour with them?" Erin nodded her head towards the band.

"Yes,"

Her question was fruitless now, "…then never mind."

"No, tell me."

Kim actually slides out of the booth and walks around to slide in beside Erin. She doesn't know why, but she just does it. And by the look on Erin's face, she's just as surprised by Kim's behavior as the woman in question is. Erin is closed off; everyone isn't privy into the thoughts and feelings of Erin Voight and she preferred it that way. Burgess was sitting entirely too close, their shoulders were practically touching and if Erin didn't know how much Kim Burgess meant to her boyfriend, she would have told her to move, to back away and give her a little breathing room. Instead, she ignored the closeness and responded to Kim's persistence, "You won't be able to answer my question. You and Adam are married and since you go on tour with them, you've never attempted a long distance relationship."

"Yes I have," Kim eagerly nods.

"You did? But, I thought…"

Burgess interrupted with a rapid shake of her head, brunette strands flying from shoulder to shoulder, "My sister got a divorce and was assaulted shortly after that. I stayed off the tour for a few months to be with her, help her with my niece and just be of support."

"And how was that? Relationship wise?"

"It was easy at first, but the longer we stayed away, the more difficult it became," that eagerness, the upbeat attitude and Kim's cheerfulness started dwindling away, "Insecurities in our relationship started to appear. There were rumors that we were divorcing since I wasn't seen on tour and then women started throwing themselves at Adam. It was a mess. Other than the jealousy, the lack of intimacy, and the sometimes technological failure we had while video chatting, it wasn't that hard, mainly because he was busy with the band and I was busy with my sister. I didn't have much time to reflect on how much I missed my husband."

"So, he never sought comfort elsewhere?"

"I was gone for five months and I trust Adam with every fiber of my being."

"That never answered my question." It's the lawyer in Erin.

"I don't think you want the answer to that question."

"Great," that was her sarcastic response, "My relationship will end just as fast as it had begun."

"No, it's not. Jay likes you," Kim retorted, finding it in herself to rest her hand over Erin's intertwined fingers.

"Yeah, but Ruzek loves you and he still did it."

"It was a rough patch in our marriage."

"That's not an excuse."

"You're right but it was years ago and I forgave him."

"I don't think I would forgive that easily. I don't think I'm capable of forgiving that easily."

"Jay hasn't done anything that needs forgiving."

With that reminder, Erin realizes that they're debating for nothing. She slides her hands from beneath Kim's and goes back to grasping her lukewarm mug of hot chocolate. She bows her head, chin to chest as she releases a loud and drawn out sigh, "You're right. It's just with his reputation; it's kind of hard to not doubt him."

"I know but if it's any consolation, I'll be on the tour and I'll be looking out for him."

"You're going to spy on my boyfriend?"

Kim chuckles as she slides back out of the booth, "…not in those words exactly. I'll just be the friend I always am and remind him about who is waiting for him in D.C."

A genuine smile falls upon her features as she watches Kim slide back into her original spot in the booth. She may have come on a little hard but now that Erin thinks about it, she can never have too many friends. Friend being the operative word since it'll never amount to anything more; best friend wasn't even an option. That smile remains on her face, small but obviously clear, "Thank you." It comes out in the ghost of a whisper. It's low but Kim hears it. And she gives her an equally small smile in return.

This bonding moment is interrupted soon enough by the loud laughter of Will and the band rejoining them. She wasn't expecting their return so soon but when she notices the waitress maneuvering through the building crowd holding a large tray with an assortment of plates, it all makes sense. They're back because the food is done.

Erin is quick to straighten her posture and adjust her facial expression. And while no one else notices, she isn't surprised to see Jay watching. He looks between her and Burgess smiling, knowing that while he was immersed in a conversation at the jukebox, they were in one as well. He wouldn't prod even though he was tempted to. He was just happy that Erin was getting along with at least one person he considered family. He slid back into the booth as his plate is sat down in front of him, "Thank you."

"So uh, Erin," she looks over to see Rixton steal a fry off of Mouse's plate, "I want to apologize to you, I guess."

Her brows furrow, "You guess?"

"Yeah," he sits up straight, flashing her one of his signature grins, "I'm sorry for being an asshole. I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings."

The grin on his face contradicted the apology coming out of his mouth. Erin's dealt with worse though; she's sat in rooms with men who casually insult her to her face and play innocent the second she calls them out on it. If she could handle old men looking down at her and judging her then she could handle whatever Rixton tries to throw her way.

"Seriously man," Will scolded, kicking Kenny's shin from under the table, "You could have at least made it sound genuine."

"Thank you for the apology," Erin responds in just the same tone he had delivered the apology.

Rixton shakes his head and chuckles before digging into his hot sub; fingers greasy and mouth wide open with each bite he takes. No home training. Erin rolls her eyes and recalling every manner she could think of, she delicately lifts her chicken wrap and takes a ladylike bite, earning a small laugh from Jay who had watched her the entire time.

"If I know you as well as I think I do, you want to shove that entire thing into your mouth," he teases –and that's the truth, "You haven't eaten all day. Go ahead, none of us will judge."

She continues to take the smallest bites, "I know you guys won't, but I can't say the same for the hoard of people watching and filming on their cameras."

"Come on my little foodie," he throws an arm around her shoulders, "Gobble that down, but if you're afraid…I get it."

Erin is tucked under his arm, "Is that a challenge?" Her question is posed without looking up at him. She's staring down at her meal, eyeing the chicken wrap and the side of fries with a menacing look. She doesn't wait to hear the answer to her question; she doesn't need it, that was obviously a challenge. And using her delicate hands, she lifts her wrap up and takes the largest bite her mouth could muster. It was absolutely delicious.

"There's my favorite foodie," he laughs, removing his arm from around her shoulder in order to start eating his own food.

Conversation fell light and Rixton wasn't a bother the remainder of lunch. Erin had learned so much about the band from a simple observation. She saw that Mouse appeared to be more of a brother to Jay than his own biological one. Ruzek was completely in love with Burgess, just by the small touches, the sweet gestures and the occasional looks he sends her way. That slip in their marriage had been a thing of the past and from the looks on Kim's face, she doesn't regret forgiving him. Will had been on the phone, either responding to texts or emails, the entire time, only looking up when someone asked him a direct question.

Eventually talk shifted and the conversation broke into more private talk. Burgess and Ruzek were in their own world, Mouse was debating with Rixton over some incident that happened before they left Louisiana, Will was still on the phone and Jay was now watching her eat the remainder of her fries. Her plate now empty the second he swipes up her last fry, "Hey!" she shoves his shoulder, "I was planning on eating that."

"You snooze, you lose."

"That so does not apply to right now," she lifted her refilled mug of hot chocolate and took a small sip, "Don't tell me you're going to swipe my drink now too."

"I'll just make you your own batch of fries."

The mug remains at her lips and only one of her brows rise, stretching as high as it can up her forehead, "Promises, promises."

"Come back to my place."

She carefully sets the smoldering hot chocolate back down and turns in his hold to face him; his brows are furrowed, taking in her reaction. He brushes his thumb along the corner of her mouth to wipe away the hint of whipped cream while simultaneously buying her time to come up with a reply, "To sleep with you?"

"That too, but I was thinking more along the lines of hanging out, spending some time together."

"I get to see your place," she whispers, smiling as he nods along, "I'll get to see your baby pics."

"You got to get to know me first," he remarked.

"Alright, what time should I come over?"

He shrugs, playing indifference, "I was thinking you could just come right after lunch."

"I have a conference call for work and my laptop is back in my hotel room," she asserts, mindlessly drawing shapes and figures into his pants leg, "but if you leave me your address, I'll drop by afterwards. It'll probably be some time around eight tonight."

"It's a little after one."

"After the conference call, I'm going to run by Annie's apartment. I promised Travis I would stop by at some point during my trip. And I want to stop by to see Kelly's new office and check in on how being the mayor of this great city is treating him. Today is a good time as any because I have a feeling that you're going to distract me for the rest of my trip."

He smiles. He definitely plans to keep her distracted for the rest of her trip. He tilts his head to press a kiss against her lips, ignoring the flashing of cameras, the public eyes, the bands' nosey gaze and every other disturbance around them as he deepens the kiss. Eventually they'll all find something else more interesting than their relationship. But, Jay didn't care. Erin may have, but as she kisses her boyfriend, she realizes one thing; Erin may be helping Jay ease his bad boy tendencies but he was definitely helping her in return. He was helping her relax, to not care what the public thinks and do what she wants, not what others want her to do.

-x-

Jay feels his socks slide along the hardwood floor as he races to the front door. She had been knocking for at least a few minutes and the music in his penthouse had muffled the sound of her beating against his door. After transferring the fries from the oven tray to a basket, he tossed it onto the counter before scurrying towards the door, slipping when his socks couldn't find friction against the ground only for the door and the knob to block and steady his fall. He caught himself.

And he opened the door seconds later to find Erin and two of her guards: Roman and Atwater.

Both of the guards let themselves in, leaving him and Erin standing beneath the threshold of his front door. Erin stepped in next, wheeling in her overnight bag –the one he text her earlier to bring- before moving out of the way so he could close the door.

"Finding parking here is next to impossible," she flushed the unopened bottle of wine against his chest, "I brought this for tonight," his eyes weren't on her no matter how hard he tried to pay attention; instead his eyes followed her guards and she noticed, "Don't worry, they're not staying. They're just canvasing your place. Dawson and Sorensen would have come in too but like I said, finding parking here is impossible so they're circling the neighborhood."

Jay nods, slowly backing away from her, "I'll go put this on ice."

It takes him longer than she would have guessed. By the time he returns her guards are finished, checking each room, examining the locks on his balcony door and windows and contacting the security at the front of the building, reminding them for the umpteenth time to be vigilant since the first daughter will be staying in the building overnight. Erin gives them both a hug, promising to contact them in the morning to let them know of her plans for the day and whether or not she needed to be picked up before opening the door and watching them leave. Seconds after their departure, she shuts and locks it, resting her forehead against it as she sighed, "It feels like I'm five and getting dropped off at my first sleepover. I'm embarrassed."

His arms circle around her waist from behind, "Don't be."

"I bet you never had to go through this with your previous girlfriends," she turned around in his arms, leaning back against the door as her hands wrapped around his shoulder muscles.

"I can't remember the last time I actually had a girlfriend."

That much was the truth. She remembered him telling her that; it was one of the things they had in common. Neither could remember the last time they had a serious relationship.

Erin pushes herself off the door and gives his lips a chaste kiss, "…so, what do you have planned for us?" Her lips brush against his mouth with each syllable.

"I was thinking I'll give you a tour of my place."

One brow rises, "Trying to one up me?

"Impossible," he chuckles, offering her his hand to which she accepts, "I don't think my one bedroom penthouse is capable of one upping your six bedroom high-rise."

From what she sees as he leads her to his kitchen, it appears to be the stereotypical home of a bachelor. His kitchen is what she expected. For a guy that can cook, his kitchen appears to be underwhelming. It's black –so, so black- and it looks cleaner than her own unused kitchen. Pots and pans hang above her head seeming brand new.

"…as promised," he lifts up the basket and hands it over to her.

She chuckles, "You took one of my fries and I get a whole basket of them in return."

"They're not all for you," he grabs a few and tosses them into his mouth as he departed from the kitchen. Erin stands in the center, holding the red basket, chuckling.

Jay leads her to his living room; it's combined with all of the other amenities a bachelor would need. And while everything that makes this room his space, it's the windows that draw her in. The window stretches so high, she has to squint just to see where it ended. It was tall in length and wide in width. And she thought her living room window was a sight to see. It draws Erin in and she peers out into the city below. It looks so far away yet so close. The lights sparkle in the night and she gasps in amazement at the view, "You definitely one upped me on this view."

"It's the Chicago skyline," he approaches to grab a few more fries, "It's one of the best sights I've seen. And trust me, as a rock star that travels, that's saying a lot."

After some internal force, Erin turns away from the view. She has all night to take it in. From her spot in the living room, she is unable to see the kitchen. That's one of the differences between their places. His living room is huge though –absolutely massive- in that it not only fits his dark, leather couch, but a custom, fully stocked bar in the corner, a dart board hanging beside it, a foosball table to the opposite side of it, a fish tank flushed against the wall, industrial shelves hanging around his home theater system and a pool table behind the couch. It was the epitome of a bachelor pad, a spot to entertain his friends and woo the ladies.

"When do you have a chance to bike ride?" Erin asks, strolling towards the bike hanging on the farthest wall, the only brick wall in the living room. The recessed lighting in the ceiling above them illuminates the room, bouncing off the dark colored walls to make it appear brighter than what it actually is. Jay follows her, trailing his fingers along the bicycle, "I actually don't," he admits with a heavy sigh, "I have ridden since I moved in and that was years ago."

"We'll have to find the time to go riding."

"You know how to ride a bike?"

She scoffs, "Isn't that like a basic requirement when being a kid? Of course I do."

Jay takes a hold of her hand and leads her on, pointing out the one bathroom that's beside his bedroom before grabbing her overnight bag with his opposite hand and leading her to his bedroom, "This is the last stop on the tour."

This room, his bedroom, was the definition of Jay Halstead. It was what she imagined. Three brownish tan walls and one brick wall creating the borders of his space with a plethora of electric guitars lining the farthest wall. His dresser is near his closet and a television, a few inches smaller than the one in his living room, hangs on the adjacent wall. His bed is in the center, flushed against the wall, facing the television. Sheets are falling off the spread and pillows thrown about on the unmade mattress.

A feeling unrecognizable to her takes over when she sees him drop her bag onto the unmade bed, "When was the last time you changed your sheets?" It sounds judgmental and she struggles to change her tone before clarifying her point, "I know you haven't been home in a while to change them since we started dating."

He reads between the obvious lines, "I don't bring women here if that's what you're suggesting."

"Can't be too careful…" She walks further into his room, carefully lowering herself beside him on the mattress, "I'm not judging you for your past. I'm just…kind of protecting my future." Did that even make sense? Erin doesn't even know what she's saying anymore.

"If they found out where I live, they probably wouldn't leave or would constantly show up. I would prefer it if I kept my personal and professional life as separate as possible."

"Sleeping with women was a part of your professional life?" Her hands fumble on her lap, playing with the thread of fabric hanging out of her pencil skirt.

"They were with me because I was rock star Jay Halstead, not regular, everyday Chicago resident Jay Halstead."

This somewhat soothes her, "Well I feel honored that I get to be a part of both." Since when did she become this ball of insecurities? Since she started dating Jay…that's when.

"You should because besides Burgess and Natalie, I think you're the only other girl I brought up here," he reaches his hand over, covering her shaky palms with his own larger hand.

Halstead stands, pulling her up to her feet as he leads the two of them out of his bedroom. It probably was for the best. Erin knows he's telling the truth, but she also knows of his past. She needs to get it together; it's why she mentally scolds herself, this relationship could work out if only she can practice what she preaches. She says his past doesn't bother her, but maybe she's not being honest with herself. Maybe it does bother her. Maybe the idea that so many women were privy to what she is privy to now; they know how he kisses, what he looks like naked, how he feels and so much more that she wanted for herself and only herself.

"What are you thinking about?" He hands her back her basket of fries. At one point she had sat it down without even realizing it.

"Your place is really clean for a guy in his late twenties." She lies. It's the lawyer in her that makes it sound believable but she couldn't tell him. Maybe if she didn't think about it, it would go away. She would learn to accept his past; it's the one thing that he is incapable of changing.

"Stereotyping me, Ms. Voight," he gives her a wink, dropping his arm from around her shoulders as he follows her towards the view that she finds comfort in, "I'm hardly home and not to mention I have a housekeeper come over and dust the place once every two weeks."

"Please don't call me Ms. Voight. That's my mother." She finishes the remainder of fries before handing him the empty basket.

"The guy keeps my penthouse in tip top shape for a nice price too," Jay disappears for a brief second to take care of the basket, "We all don't have a Camille Voight in our lives to keep our homes dust free and impeccably clean."

"She does not clean my place," Erin defends, "She may grocery shop for me on occasion but she does not clean my apartment. My place rarely gets dirty for her to even do such a thing. And besides, she's been busy trying to find the floor of Justin's place to even worry about if I have a dirty dish in the sink or if there's a grain of salt sitting on my counter." Jay chuckles. And that relieves her. It takes her mind off her earlier worries and focuses it on the here and now.

Here she's with Jay and now he's taking her hand and leading her away from the window. She follows with each gentle pull, "Jay, where are we going?"

"I have one more thing to show you."

"And here I thought the tour was over," her brows furrow as he leads her outside the door of his penthouse and towards the elevator, "Alright, now you have me curious."

Jay says nothing more. He simply grinned and kissed her forehead before pressing the rooftop button in the elevator. A silence filled their presence, surrounding them inside of the overwhelmingly large elevator. Neither chose to speak, instead they chose to stand, facing each other, staring into one another's eyes as the elevator took them up one floor. It's only when the doors opened that Erin pulled away, gasping almost immediately at the sight in front of her.

"Come on," Jay takes her hand and leads her onto the roof; he's walking backwards while holding her wrist and pulling her forward, "Since you enjoyed the view from my living room so much, I have a feeling that you'll enjoy the view from the rooftop."

He led her to the ledge, peering over the row of shrubs as they took in the city below. Erin is speechless, taking in her surroundings. It's as if the entire world is right in front of her, within reach and waiting for her to either touch or memorize every light, building, movement of water and plant as if she'll never be privy to this view again. There was no word that came to mind to even attempt at describing the view before her. All around them were the sounds and the lights of the city; it would seem next to impossible to get any amount of rest with how active the downtown city life is on any given day of the week.

"It's a sight for sore eyes, huh?"

Jay shrugs, turning away from the view to face her, "I've seen better," cupping her cheek with his hand to hint at what exactly he was referring to, "I've seen much better."

She blushed. She actually physically blushed. If not for the night sky, he would have noticed the dark red tint that appeared on her cheeks. This guy had a way with words. It was his superpower and she could actually see how he became a ladies man. It didn't appear to take much.

"Come on," he took both of Erin's hands into his own, squeezing them gently, "There's something else I want to show you."

Erin nods in agreement as he releases her hands. This time he doesn't pull her along. He simply points towards a trail and hints for her to take it. She does. And all along this pathway were bushes and patches of flowers creating privacy around the swimming pool cemented into the roof. The pool was well lit; it practically glowed beneath the moonlight. Erin suddenly stopped walking and turned around to face him, watching him as he started to discard his clothing, "I didn't bring my swimsuit. I don't have one with me."

"It's a good idea that no one is allowed up here after hours."

His feet were now bare and his shirt was thrown onto one of the lawn chairs. His pants shortly followed afterwards and then his boxer briefs. He stood naked and proud, eyeing her wardrobe with an expression that showed he expected her to follow. A smirk fell across her lips as she shook her head and took a step back, "You want to skinny dip in a public pool?"

"It's technically closed; it's after hours," he takes one step towards her.

"So now we're trespassing," she crossed her arms, looking at everything besides him, "we're breaking the law and you're naked."

He takes another step, "Live a little."

"I live enough."

"You can never live enough," he takes another step.

"And skinny dipping with you is living?"

Jay shrugs, "…among other things," and he takes another step forward, only this time she takes a step back, "Come on…say yes," he implored.

"You are a horrible influence."

It comes out as a chuckle as she kicks off her heels. He doesn't move any closer, choosing instead to enjoy the show from the distance. She shimmies out of her skirt and throws the blouse somewhere off to the side. Jay turns away from her. The rest of the show occurs without his prying eyes to watch. Instead, he starts to step into the pool, testing the water to find it just the right temperature. And by the time, he's completely immersed into it, she's naked.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," she whispered to herself, "My parents would kill me."

"Do you always do things to appease your parents?" He swims over towards the stairs of the pool as she starts to lower herself into the water.

"I try to," she admits, "aside from dating you; I try to do things they would approve of. I don't have the best track record when it comes to making decisions and I know that all of what they tell me is for my best interest. I didn't know that at first but after Nadia, I got my head on straight and started to really get serious about my life, what I wanted to do as a career, who I chose to date and who I chose to befriend. I'm taking back some of the control but it'll take time, especially because my decisions don't just affect me."

"That's good to know," he swam up to her. The water reaches just above her breast, lapping against the skin with each movement of the chlorinated water.

Her fingers trail up his arms, going over each droplet of water until they reach his upper arms, "You know," she soon wrapped her arms around his neck, "I think we should avoid talking about my parents while we're both naked and trespassing in a closed pool." He nods.

And suddenly, Jay's hands fall to her waist, pulling her flush up against him, desperately needing and wanting to feel more of her. He pushes her back against the wall of the pool, the water splashing and slapping loudly because of the abrupt movement. His hands roam down to cup her behind and her leg lifts to wrap around his, practically yanking him closer as she opens up to him. Their movements are erratic and rushed but the kiss he lays upon her is the opposite; it contradicts everything his hands and body is doing to her. Her bottom lip is sandwiched between his and he's sucking, pulling, tugging and biting against it as gently as possible. It's soft. It's filled with a rising passion. And as her back repeatedly hits against the pool wall with each thrust, he realizes that he's in deep, both figuratively and literally. Erin Voight, the president's daughter will be the end of him.


	12. Seize the Moment

The light burned his eyes awake, making him groan at the discomfort of being awakened by the bright sunlight. He wasn't ready to wake up. He shut them again and rolled over, his hand reaching out to pull her closer, only to disappointedly find her space empty. He clenched the cold sheets that were supposed to be warm from her body. Where was Erin? Where did she go? Opening one eye, he confirmed what he initially thought; she wasn't in bed. He sat up and pulled the sheets off, stepping out of bed and standing in only his boxers. He walked out of his bedroom and into the living room, finding the balcony door open and the curtains blowing in the breeze.

She was outside.

Jay sighed and stretched his arms above his head, tilting his head to the side to stretch out some of the stiffness in his neck. He approached the balcony and stepped out to find her dressed in his shirt from last night; the top three buttons were undone and her shoulder-length hair blew in different directions because of the wind. Erin's back was to him, she had her wrists crossed and leaned over the railing, watching the beautiful Chicago waterfront. His eyes drifted down, noticing how his shirt rose up her bare legs alluringly. He grinned enticingly, striding over to her. And when he reaches her, his fingers lightly draw up her legs as he leans forward to kiss her neck, "I missed you when I woke up."

She's quiet, obviously agitated.

Halstead turns her around in his arms, trapping her in his embrace as he takes her all in –body language and facial expression. He kisses her and she lets him. With subtle bites and nibbles against her lips, trailing down to her jaw before finishing at her neck, he attempts to progress the scene until she carefully pushes him back, "Stop."

"Did I do something wrong?"

She squints at him, struggling to read his expression, "We didn't use protection last night."

"We got caught up in the moment."

"That's not an excuse," she pushes him away again the second he moves in closer, "I'm so glad I started birth control but that only prevents pregnancy!"

"I'm clean if that's what you're worried about."

She bites her lip as she mentally debates her next response, "How do you know?"

"What?" Now he takes a step back when she moves forward.

"How do you know?" She repeats a little louder, "Jay, there's no denying how much you've slept around, you could have picked something up. I'm not worried about getting pregnant. I have that handled, but Jay," she continues to struggle to find the words; her mouth is moving faster than her brain can catch up, "You're a risk-taker. You like living on the edge. It's fun, I'll admit that, but I'm not having unprotected sex with you," she pauses, " _again_ , until you get tested."

"I've been tested," he looks past her shoulder, taking in the view from his balcony, "living this type of lifestyle, I get tested every couple of months. My last test was a few days before we even met and my results came back that I'm clean," his eyes finally avert towards her and they hold every ounce of emotion she hated to see, "I wouldn't risk your life, your safety and your reputation for raw sex!" His voice is louder than what either of them expected, "I wouldn't do that to you or anyone! Yeah, I've slept around, but I've never had sex without protection until you! Erin, I may not have a fancy degree or a decent reputation but that doesn't mean I'm an idiot! I thought you knew that. I thought that's why we," he motions between the two of them; "I figured that's why we were good at this, good with each other because you see a side of me that others refuse to see. I thought you got me."

"Jay…" she reaches out for him.

And he leaves her outside, drawing open the balcony door before sliding it shut behind him.

Erin had trouble sleeping because she kept thinking about last night, the endless possibilities about what she could have contracted. And now, she felt like the idiot she knew he wasn't. She felt horrible for initially giving him the cold shoulder, for insulting his character, for implying that he didn't care about anyone but himself. Tomorrow it'll officially be a week since they got together and already they were fighting. This couldn't have been a good sign…

Erin opens the door and steps back inside, walking through the living room in search of her boyfriend, "Jay," he's in the kitchen, aggressively pushing his finger against the different buttons on the coffee machine, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have assumed."

He says nothing. Instead, he's roaming through the cabinets, snatching out two coffee mugs and slamming them down onto the counter. She notices he grabbed more than one –at least he's fixing her a cup too. That's saying something.

"Babe…" her voice is small as she stares at his bare back. He's silently fixing the coffee, not even paying attention to the measurements as he adds in cream and sugar. She steps closer and sees his shoulders tense up, "You're not the idiot. I am."

"…no you're not," he sighs. And for the first time since she came back into the house, he turned to face her, catching her eyes and giving her a soft smile.

"I guess I'm a little insecure. And maybe nervous," she admits.

"About what?" The coffee is forgotten as he moves towards her.

"I don't know. I just keep thinking about my lack of experience in relationships and I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop in this one. I keep feeling like something is going to happen to ruin this. And since the pool last night, I kept thinking it was…" she quiets herself at the end.

"…me giving you a STD," he filled in and she nodded almost immediately.

"I should have known better. I should have given you the benefit of the doubt. I truly am sorry."

He nods, fully accepting it, "Can you promise me something next time?"

"It depends on what it is…"

"Can you let me know when something is bothering you instead of brooding about it?"

"I think I can promise that."

Jay briefly smiles as he runs his fingers through the tangles of her hair. Erin's arms are wrapped around his waist, chin resting on the center of his bare, muscular chest as she tilts her head up, grinning when he peered down to press his own lips against hers.

"I think we just had our first fight," Erin mentions, breaking off the kiss.

He chuckles, hands dropping from her hair, "I would hardly call that a fight."

"Shame," she dramatically pouts, "no fight means no makeup sex."

"Oh, well in that case, that was definitely a fight."

She laughs rather loudly and unattractively. Her head falls back and her hands unwrap from around his waist in order to wrap around her own. Her shoulders bounce and tremble with each melodic sound of joy that comes from her mouth. Jay likes it. He makes a mental note to do anything to hear this laugh again.

Erin finally calms enough to speak, "I was," her face is flushed from the laughter and she tries to gather her breath in order to continue, "I was thinking we could take a shower. Your shower is much bigger than mine and if we could do half the things you suggested in my shower there's no telling what we can do in yours."

It doesn't take much convincing, especially when she grabs his hand and starts tugging him in the direction of his bathroom. Her back is pressed against the front of him. His lips are trailing kisses along her neck and jawline as they stumble towards the bathroom. At some point when they step inside, he cuts the water on, allowing it to warm and heat up with every bite, kiss and nibble against whatever flesh she exposed to him. She turns around to face him, her face still flushed but from the heated passion instead of the laughter she partook in moments ago. He lifts her up and carefully sits her on the counter, using a free hand to push his toiletries out of the way. When she sits, most of the toiletries fall to the floor, she flashes him a grin.

"I'm not cleaning that up," she whispers against his lips, "I'm your guest."

He chuckles, "If I get to keep doing this, I'll clean anything up."

Jay grips the bottom of his shirt that she's wearing, slowly pulling it up as she holds her hands into the air, "How slow are you going to make this?" She's out of breath from the anticipation.

"Patience," he lowly chuckled, finally discarding her of the shirt, "Beautiful." He leans in to kiss her, soft and slow and sensual and everything in between, "Stunning."

Their fight long forgotten as they kiss and nip at each other's lips, her hand coming to rest against the side of his jaw as he pushes his mouth harder against hers. His hand covers the back of her head, holding her in place and almost simultaneously they realize that this moment couldn't be faked, this moment of unbridled passion couldn't have been found anywhere and with anyone. It was almost scary how fast their feelings were progressing for one another. It was all too real, feeling entirely too serious and was all too perfect when suddenly their blissful moment was shattered a few minutes later when a sharp, loud knock erupted against the front door of his penthouse. Erin jumped back, pressing her hand over her heart; it scared her. Jay rubbed her bare thighs, standing between her opened legs as she remained perched on top of the counter. He drew his lips away from her, "Who the hell is that?"

"There's only one way to find out."

Their visitor knocked again; his forehead rested against hers, "I guess I'll go get it."

"I can always go, unless you want whoever it is to see me naked."

His eyes darkened and he immediately moved towards the bathroom door, "Stay in here. I'll get rid of whoever that is. I swear…someone better by lying in a ditch somewhere." Her chuckles fade away with every step he took away from the bathroom and towards the front door.

He didn't bother to see who was out there; he didn't waste a second to ask for the intruder to announce because he knew it would only prolong himself getting back to Erin. Instead of even looking through the peephole or pretend like no one was home, he unlocked both latches on the front door and yanked it open, "Can I help you?"

Violet, the band's marketer and advertising agent, jumps; her fist is still raised into the air as if he opened the door while she was mid-knock, "Oh," she finds herself speechless, mouth becoming dry at the sight of a guy who is technically her boss standing in nothing but his boxers.

"Violet," she snaps out of her reverie when she realizes he's been calling her.

Her eyes flutter rapidly, "Sorry, what?"

"I said what are you doing here?"

Violet blushes. She always finds herself blushing in his presence and right now it surely didn't help that he was practically naked. Her eyes traveled from his bare feet, up his toned legs, hesitating over his well-defined muscles before finally reaching his eyes. He's waiting on a response; she realizes that he's asked her a question and without even giving it much thought, she answers, "I uh…I have some," she clears her dry throat, "I have some…uh updates for you."

"Updates?"

She eagerly nods, ducking beneath his arm to let herself into his penthouse, "It involves a business venture…well, not exactly. It's more like a sponsor. I met with a company a few days ago and nothing was set in stone yet, but I just got off the phone and they want your band in their commercial, they want you guys to promote their product," Violet steps towards him; the smile on her face is larger than he's ever thought possible, "I was thinking we could get into contact with them, work out the details, get Mason to look over any contracts and have you sign them."

"Whoa…Violet," Jay takes a step back, face flushed and appearance a little overwhelmed, "I thought you was supposed to talk to Will about stuff like this."

"I figured you wanted to be involved in the decision making since you're like the leader."

"We don't really have a leader."

Violet rolls her eyes, "You're being modest. Look, this business venture won't wait forever. I came here because I know at the end of the day you have the final say. Your band normally agrees with whatever you decide. They trust you."

"I'm a little busy at the moment."

Violet is reminded of his current appearance. His hair is disheveled. He's practically nude and his lips appear to be reddish and slightly swollen. Violet bashfully grinned, "Did I interrupt something? I just figured you wanted in on this."

"I do. It's a great idea, but I just don't understand why this couldn't have waited until later."

"…because it's an opportunity we can't miss."

"You couldn't have spoken to Will about this? Or Natalie, she's in PR."

Violet opens her mouth to respond, to come up with some quick, logical reason as to why she's here, speaking with the lead singer and electric guitarist over his brother, the manager and the one who normally made the decisions and told him about them after they were set in stone. She's unable to rebuttal though because it was in that time that Erin called out, "Babe, who was at the-"

She cuts herself off and stops abruptly.

Erin is absolutely embarrassed. She is red in the face, limbs frozen, mouth agape and expression absolutely mortified. Even though she's wearing his shirt once again, she still felt exposed. It was large on her petite body but it only fell to her mid-thigh. Jay picks up on her discomfort, noticing how her feet shuffle against the floor and her eyes are cast downward. He crosses the room to stand in front of her in hopes of possibly relieving her of some of that discomfort in knowing that his body was blocking hers. Violet could barely see her now.

"You were busy," Violet whispers, running her hand through her short blonde hair, "I see now. I got it," she nods her head, not even acknowledging the other woman's presence; "I'll call Will."

"I'll find out about it later," he reassures.

Violet shows herself out. And once the door is shut behind her, Jay walks over to lock it. He leans against it only to look out of the peephole to ensure that she actually did leave.

"Did I interrupt something?"

He shakes his head.

And she continues, "Who was that?"

He turns around from the door, "Violet; she's a part of the staff."

Erin nods, accepting the answer before lightly adding, "She likes you."

Jay squints at her, reading between the lines of her innocent comment. She doesn't seem bothered by it at all. She says it as if it's a simple observation, one that he is quick to disagree with, "Nah, that's all in your head."

"She has a crush on you, Jay."

He rolls his eyes, continually shaking his head in disagreement, "She's just a friend."

"I'm not saying she isn't," Erin approaches him, hands coming to rest upon his chest, "but I'm just making a simple observation. Violet likes you. I know that look."

"Well, the feeling isn't mutual."

Erin drops her hand from his chest, fingers twiddling with the buttons on the shirt she's wearing as she gradually takes steps away from him, "Have you slept with her?" He understands why she asks and she doesn't sound upset, just genuinely curious.

"No," he follows her as she continues to walk backwards towards the bathroom, "I have a rule. I never hook up with the people who work for me. It's unprofessional."

"Good." She finds a relief in that she didn't know she needed.

"I uh, I have something to ask you. I just remembered."

"Uh oh," she reaches behind her to grab the doorknob of the bathroom, "Statements like that are never good. Should I sit first?"

He chuckles at her melodramatic act, "No. It's nothing like that. It's just Burgess is cooking dinner at her house. It's sort of like a tradition she does any time we return to Chicago."

"And you want me to come?" She basically asks the question herself.

"Yeah, I really do."

She twists the knob and pushes the door open. The sudden burst of hot steam hits them almost immediately as she backs up inside, "Of course I'll come."

"You don't have anything to do today?"

"I do," she agrees, "but priorities. I'll just have my guys bring my laptop. I may have to do a little work in her living room, but I'm hoping she won't mind."

"You can kill someone in her living room and she wouldn't mind."

Erin chuckles. She laughs just as loud and as hard as she did earlier that day. It was the laugh he vowed to himself to hear again, to be the cause of and as he listens to the melody, he realizes that no matter how many times he hears it, it'll never be enough. Jay slams the bathroom door shut behind him and crosses the expanse of the bathroom as fast as his legs would allow, "Now where were we?" He circles his arms around her waist and brings his mouth down to crash upon hers.

-x-

Jay was driving; Erin was riding passenger. Her guards had dropped off her laptop and she had sent them on their way after convincing them, through a lot of pleading, lawyering and other methods of persuasion to allow her to go to dinner with Jay _alone_. She didn't want babysitters. She didn't need a babysitter. No one, besides his band and her guards, would know where she is and that had been her largest selling point. Erin had gathered her briefcase from them, gave them each a quick hug and then told them all to have fun and enjoy their time back in Chicago. They were happy to have the unplanned day off, and while technically they were still on the clock, she wasn't going to tell anyone if they weren't.

Erin had been silent for most of the ride, focusing on her phone and responding to an insufferable amount of emails. She ignored the pings of social media until it became too much of a hassle. Her phone never vibrated from social media as much unless it was news about her. And when she clicked out of her last email and opened up the closest social media app, she spotted the main source of her alerts. It's another photo; it's more of a two-picture collage. On the left side, it's of her entering Jay's building late last night and on the right side, it's of her leaving his building, hand in hand with him this afternoon. The picture didn't bother her as much as she thought it would, but what did seem to catch her eye were the comments. She takes a deep breath, "Jay."

He turns down the radio, but his eyes remain focused on the road, "Yeah?"

"Pull over." Her desire was obviously lost on him as he immediately did as she said.

The demand catches him off guard, but he follows it. He turns on his turn signal, signaling his intent to get over and once he's out of the congestion of traffic and the car is in park, he confusedly turns to face her, "Is everything-" She had already unbuckled her seat belt and was now on top of him, straddling his lap. The movement catches him even more off guard.

She kissed him with every ounce of emotion she felt for him –emotion that she couldn't recognize, emotion that she has never felt before. It was hard to maneuver around the interior of his luxury car; it was small and compact and really wasn't the best vehicle to have sex inside, still, it didn't stop her from trying to initiate it though.

"Not that I'm complaining Er," she unbuckles his belt, "but what brought this on?"

"It's not important," Erin sounds out of breath as she nips at his pulse point in her haste to move this along, "Less talking and more kissing."

"Again, not that I'm complaining but I'm usually the one to initiate sex in public places," he responds, growling low when she nipped at his bottom lip.

Erin yanks his shirt over his head and tosses it onto the passenger seat, "…maybe it's time for a change. And again, less talking and more kissing."

His hands move to wrap around her waist, toying with the zipper of her dress, "Erin…" he sighs.

"Less talking, more kissing," she repeats her earlier mantra.

She leaned forward to place kisses on his jaw, working from his chin up towards his ear as her nails trailed down his chest. He tries to talk anyway through the kisses she places upon his lips, "We," she kisses him, "can do this," she kisses him again, "but I just want to," she kisses him once more, "know what brought it on."

"Less talking," she whispers, hitching her dress up slightly so she could slowly drop down on top of him, "and more kissing." His arms wrapped around her, pulling her closer to him the second she starts to move. He halts her motion.

"One second you were quiet on your phone, then you're telling me to pull over and now you're on top of me and I'm inside of you in a car on the side of a highway, what's wrong?"

Erin glances down to look at their physical connectedness, to watch how he disappears inside of her and she's flustered, impatient and simply not in the mood to discuss, "Less talking and-"

"More kissing," he filled in, waving it off, "I've heard you the last few times babe."

"Do you really want to talk about this now?"

He follows her eyes, looking down at what had caught her attention, their connection, their linkage. He's looking at how much he's disappeared within her and when he immediately looks back up, catching her eye and the devious look she has inside them, she knows she won. And the second her victory washes over her she starts to move.

To put it simply, for all intents and purposes it's a quickie, a hurried sexual romp, an urgent, thrill that's figuratively fogging up the windows in his sports car. It leaves them both panting. Her forehead rests against his shoulder as he pecks the side of her head, "Now, tell me." She chuckles, dragging her nails lightly down his chest, "Do you think they'll be suspicious if the second we get to your friend's house I disappear and go straight to the bathroom to clean up?"

"Nah," he pecks the side of her head again, "they'll just think you're using the bathroom."

She raises her head and looks into his eyes, "That's good to know."

Jay raised his hand and ran it through her hair, trying to flatten the surface of hair that his fingers ruffled up, "I'm still waiting."

"You really want to know?"

He says nothing and nods.

"It's probably childish of me to get upset over it."

"If it made you upset, it made you upset. Don't diminish how it made you feel."

Erin traced her thumb over his mouth, outlining the profile of his lips; he smiled. She's lucky. No matter what anyone says, she's a really lucky girl. Erin removes her hand and uses the arm rest to push herself up, giving him the chance to tuck himself back in as she adjust her underwear and sundress. She makes a move to go back to her seat, but his hands grip her waist to keep her in place, sitting her back down on his lap now that they're both fully clothed and sexually sated.

"People know that I stayed with you last night."

His brow rises, "…and that's what's bothering you?"

"No," she shakes her head, "I thought it would but it doesn't. That's not really what bothered me. I just…" she struggles to find the right words, "Jay," she calls him as if he isn't even looking at her when in reality he's been watching her this whole time, "Do you think I'm boring?"

"You know I don't think that. I don't think I could be with someone that's boring."

"What about manipulative? Gullible? Clingy? Foolish? Inconsiderate? Predictable? Deceitful?"

"Wait, wait," he interrupts her before she could finish what he assumes to be a long list of put downs, "This is all because of that picture?"

She nods, "Partly…the other is coming from headlines, most of all mentioning how boring and predictable I am, wondering how I'm going to keep up with your fast-paced and exciting life without boring you to death with my very obviously dull one."

"You just initiated sex with me in a car on the side of the road in broad daylight."

"They say if I'm not fun and ravishing enough, you'll look elsewhere and some of them wouldn't even blame you for it," she whispers; her fingers trail against the outline of his shirt collar, finding interest in the fabric more than his eyes.

"Is that why you forced me to park and practically pounced on me?"

Erin bites down upon her lower lip, "I guess I just wanted to show you that I can be fun."

"You're not giving me the benefit of the doubt again," he sighs, nudging her chin with his thumb, lifting it slightly to tilt her head up, "why do you assume you have to prove yourself to me? If there's anything you need to know about me, it's that I don't give a shit what anyone says or thinks, unless it's someone I care about. A bunch of faceless strangers sprouting bullshit online means nothing. Don't let them change anything about you, Er. Part of the reason why I like you so much is because you're authentic, you're you and I don't know your past but I am so damn interested in learning about it."

A brief silence fills the car and she covers it by leaning forward and brushing her lips across his, "Thank you," his words meant a lot to her, "I can't believe we just did that," she chuckles dryly.

"Hey, I'm not complaining about it."

Erin finds herself crawling back into the passenger seat, buckling her seat belt and staring forward, "What has gotten into me?"

"Don't you mean who?"

Her hand flies across the arm rest and lands against his chest, slapping him a bit too hard. He just laughs it off while buckling his own seat belt.

"I'm not even going to dignify that with a response," she slides her feet back into her flip flops, "I've never initiated something like that before…"

"Sex?"

"No, I've initiated that; I'm talking about sex in a public place."

"I see why your last relationships haven't lasted."

"It's not that I didn't want to, it's just for the longest my dad has known he wanted to run for president, so my parents groomed me and my brother into being or appearing to be the perfect children. That's a lot of pressure and probably had to do with me rebelling them the most as a teenager, but when I got my act together, I could never try something like that out of fear the opposition, the voters and my parents would find out."

"…but you did today. What was different besides the comments?"

"You," she looked over at him; a graceful smile falls upon her lips, "I trust you."

Jay couldn't think of a way to respond to that so instead he chose to reach across the arm rest and cover her hand with his, squeezing it gently to show his gratitude. He couldn't wait to find out more about her, to see why she operates in the way that she does and to maybe bring her out of that box her parents and the public has put her in. She couldn't be herself. She always had to worry about what others thought of her. She couldn't be Erin Lindsay Voight and he wanted to know, to truly know, who she was and not who she tried to be.

The remainder of the drive to Kim and Adam's house was filled with small talk. Her cell was on silent and kept inside of her purse. His right hand remained intertwined with her left from the moment he pulled off the side of the road to when he pulled into the gated community. The Ruzeks' house is the second on the left he must always remind himself; it seems the person who was in charge of structuring these homes lacked creativity. Every house in the community practically looked the same with only the mailboxes and numbered addresses providing the differences. Jay pulled into the driveway and placed the car in park, "Alright, we're here."

"Why do you not seem happy about that?"

"You go back home tomorrow, I figured I would spend this time with you instead of sharing you with my friends."

"Are you sure the persona you put on isn't just an act? I don't think the public and the media would believe me if I told them about how you are around me."

He shrugs, releasing her hand, "I like you. A lot," Jay opens his car door and she does the same, stepping out and grabbing her briefcase as she grabs her purse.

Hand in hand they walk along the stone pathway, up the two steps until they're in front of the door, knocking loud enough that no matter where anyone was in the house, they'll be able to hear. Jay even rings the doorbell a few times just in case. And seconds before he could ring it for a third time, the large oak door swings open, revealing Will taking a sip of the beer in his hand.

"Erin, it's nice seeing you again," he steps to the side to let them in.

"It's nice seeing you too."

"What about me?"

Will rolls his eyes and throws his arm around his brother's shoulder, "It's good seeing you too."

"Jay," Erin calls for him, "Where's the bathroom?" He couldn't help but smile at the memory. She needed it to clean up. And while Will ventures back towards the kitchen, Jay leads her towards the bathroom, telling her to come to the kitchen when she finishes.

The aroma of tonight's dinner has filled the large two-story house and as Erin cleaned up, straightened her outfit, her hair and touched up her light make up, she heard the small growl in her stomach. They had only eaten a small meal today; it was nothing too heavy since Burgess always cooked more food than any of them could possibly eat. Erin gave herself a once over and once she approved of how she looked, she departed the bathroom. The floral printed sundress, consisting of a navy blue color with spaghetti straps and pink and white flowers, swayed in her swift movement. Her navy blue flip flops echoed down the long corridor as she went in search of the kitchen, only finding it via her sense of smell. She followed the aroma. She didn't consider herself a big foodie for nothing. And besides her sense of smell, her hearing was good too; she could hear everyone talking and laughing louder and louder with each step towards her destination. She walked inside to find plenty of familiar faces and one that was new to her.

"Erin," Burgess notices her first. She's wearing an apron over her strapless black sundress and that apron is covered with an assortment of stains, "I would hug you but I'm filthy right now."

"Oh that's alright," she chuckled, turning to face the guys, "Hi everyone."

Greetings are passed around the room and even though Burgess couldn't hug her, it didn't stop Mouse from reaching out and taking a chance to give her one of the sweetest and kindest hugs.

"Erin," Jay hands her a beer he just opened, "this is Natalie; she's Will's girlfriend and she's also our PR coordinator."

Natalie extends her hand, "I've heard nothing but great things about you."

"Same," she lies, extending her own palm to shake her hand. She's honestly never heard of the woman.

Burgess returns to the stove, with Mouse and Ruzek's help, they continue to prepare dinner. Erin climbs onto one of the barstools. Her briefcase is leant against one of the legs of her stool and she reaches down to grab it, pulling it onto her lap and going inside to pull out her laptop. She boots up the screen of her Mac computer and she goes into her purse to check her phone while the laptop comes to life, "I hope you guys don't mind if I handle a few work-related things."

"Not at all," Will chuckles, reaching into his own pocket to flash his cell, "I keep my phone on me at all times for business related things."

Erin immerses herself into work right after Adam provides her with their Wi-Fi code. She's focused; Jay thinks she's adorable, especially when she pushes the dark-rimmed glasses up her nose. At some point she even scooped her hair up and put it into a messy ponytail. It took every fiber of his being to prevent himself from kissing her neck. He flops down into the stool beside her, "Is everything okay?"

She's rubbing her hand pretty aggressively against the back of her neck, "Yeah, it's just my boss. He's pushing up our meeting time so once I land; I literally have to go straight to work."

"You'll land like at seven in the morning."

She looks over at him and silently nods, "Yep, I'll probably be there all day. My boss talks so slow and what's supposed to be a half an hour meeting turns into an hour or two long meeting."

"Once the meeting is over you can go home and get rest, right?"

"Not even close," she chuckles dryly, pulling the glasses off her face to wipe them against the fabric of her dress, "I have to meet with a potential client at nine in the morning so hopefully my boss doesn't keep me for too long. And then at ten, I have to interview a witness for another case and now as I read another email, the defendant's lawyer for a different case want to meet to try and settle out of court. I have things planned all day tomorrow so I'll have to skip lunch just to be able to meet him."

And Jay thought that his life was busy.

Mouse sets another beer in front of her after realizing that her last one was empty, "You sound like you need this." She laughs and gives him a smile of appreciation.

"What is it that you do again?" It's the first time Kenny has spoken to her since she arrived.

Burgess answers before she even has the chance to, "She's a civil rights attorney."

"And what is it that you do as a civil rights attorney?"

"If someone's civil rights have been violated, if someone infringed on your rights, discriminated against you and you want to file a lawsuit, that's where I come in."

Rixton nods, "That sounds boring."

"Kenny," Natalie scolded, shoving his shoulder.

"What?" He exclaimed, tossing his empty beer bottle into recycle, "It's true."

"It can be," Erin surprisingly agrees with him, "being a lawyer is not as fun and cool as the movies make it seem. Majority of the time I don't even make it to court and we settle out of it. It's basically a lot of paperwork, meetings and filing appeals."

"Meetings?"

"I could either meet with the defendant and their counsel to negotiate a settlement or I meet with clients or potential clients. Just because you hire us doesn't mean you automatically have a case. My law firm has to investigate it to ensure that your rights were in fact infringed upon or you were discriminated against. For example, sometimes people don't get jobs, housing, loans, etc. because of their race, religion, gender, disability, age, sexual orientation, etc. and sometimes people don't get it because they don't qualify for it. It's up to us to figure out why and be able to prove it, sometimes we can and sometimes we can't. That's what affects whether or not we will take a case. It's all about the burden of proof and that's on us."

"It can't be that many cases though…"

"You'd be surprised," Erin shuts down her laptop and starts to pack it back up in her briefcase, "No one has the right to judge you. I fight for their rights and I preserve the rights of others whether it is speech, press, expression, privacy, so on and so forth." She doesn't want to focus on work. She wants to seize the moments, whether big or small, that she has free.

"She's a bad ass, isn't she?" Mouse gushes like a proud parent; his hand clasped over Erin's shoulder as she takes a swig of her cold beer.

Rixton doesn't answer. He doesn't agree or disagree. He just makes a noise that no one can identify or interpret. It seems as if he would do anything to discredit her, to make her feel less than the amazing woman she is. Jay was going to have to have another talk with him, apparently, the one at the restaurant yesterday didn't settle.

Jay moves her briefcase out of the way as she becomes distracted on her phone. The band is cracking jokes, reminiscing about stories and memories that she wasn't a part of and while normally she would listen at the chance to learn about him and those he holds close to him, the text on her phone took precedence.

"Everything okay?"

The band turns to face her after Jay's question. She looks up from the phone once she sends the next message, "Yeah, sorry, that I'm being rude. It was just Kelly. He's just having a mental breakdown because he's overwhelmed with his new job duties."

"Kelly," this perks up Rixton's ears.

"…one of my closest friends," she answers the unasked question; her eyes are drawn to her phone screen as she sends him encouraging words, ensuring him that he's not in over his head as he put it and that he can't quit because he just started. He just needed to take a deep breath, relax and figure it out. If there's anyone who could do it, it's him.

"Your closest friend is a guy."

"Yeah," she sets her phone face down.

Rixton turns to Jay, "And you're okay with that?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"It's not up to him."

Both Jay and Erin's response comes out simultaneously. Almost immediately after, they look at each other, catching each other's eye before smiling. The food was finished. And it appeared that this topic of conversation was far from over as they lined up with their dishes, moved through the kitchen and made their plates. The second they're in the dining room sitting down, Kenny speaks up, "People of the opposite sex can't be friends."

Kim tilts her head, "We're friends."

"That's different," Rixton argues, "You're married and you're like a sister to me."

"Kelly is like a brother to me."

"Just hear me out," Rixton retorts, scooping up a spoonful of mashed potatoes, "the only reason a man and a woman can be friends is because one of them doesn't want it to be more. Someone always develops feelings for the other. As the woman, you dictate the friendship. I bet if you showed up at his house, naked under a trench coat, he'll prove just how attractive to you he is."

"Is everything always about sex with you?" Natalie scoffed, uncapping the cork to a bottle of wine, "I swear your head is always in the gutter."

"I fail to see the point you're trying to make," Erin is passed the bottle of wine and starts to fill up her glass, "You are friends with Natalie and Kim. Doesn't that prove what you're disputing?"

"That's different."

"I fail to see how."

"They're like siblings; it's some lines I will never cross with them."

Erin lifts her glass and takes a large gulp, "I haven't had sex with him if that's what you're insinuating," Jay nearly chokes on his bite of chicken; Mouse is forced to pat his back, "Kelly is like my brother. He knows me through and through. He's been with me through the best and the worst moments in my life. And the ones he wasn't there for, he knows about. Don't diminish my relationship with him because you're stuck in a patriarchal time period."

"Has he seen you naked?"

This time nearly everyone at the table nearly spits out the wine or beer they've been drinking at his choice of rebuttal, at his opportunity to prove a point. Erin doesn't answer right away and Kenny smiles and repeats, "Has he seen you naked? Have you seen him naked?"

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean anything. I've seen my friends Annie and Nadia naked too." This surprises Jay and suddenly he has a different view of her friendship with Kelly Severide.

"We're not talking about them."

"You can't pick and choose what evidence you want to hear."

"Have you two been naked at the same time?"

Erin gulps down the remainder of wine in her glass, "Is this really dinner conversation?"

"Jury," he turns to his bandmates sitting around the table, "I would like the record to show how Ms. Voight is evading the question. She's not answering."

He's trying to beat her at her own game.

Erin grabs the wine bottle and pours the remainder into her glass, "Yes, we've been naked at the same time. We change in front of each other. It's no big deal. You're making it out to be something that it isn't."

"Am I really?"

"Yes," Erin sits up and straightens her posture, "mainly out of ignorance on your part. You haven't opened yourself up to friendships with women without always making sex and physical attraction as part of the equation and that'll really limit your life. If you truly believe that perspective, that women and men are incapable of being friends, then you really need to reevaluate your own intentions and work to get rid of that adolescent mentality of gender relationships."

The immediate silence that results from her speech makes her feel even more confident. It didn't embarrass her or make her feel awkward. She's a public speaker; she's used to silence. All that could be heard was the sound of her fork scraping against her plate as she continued to eat.

Kim shifts in her seat, angling her body to face her husband, "And you wonder why I'm a fan of hers?" Adam immediately nods, finally understanding.

"I'm finished," Rixton spat, rising from his seat and grabbing his empty plate, "I'll start loading up the movie for when you guys are done." He disappears from the dining room.

"Don't take this the wrong way but I love you," Natalie boldly declared after finishing off the rest of her wine, "I don't think anyone has ever been able to shut him up. Can you stay?" Erin laughs as Natalie attempts to elaborate, "I mean like do you have to go back? I'm sure Will can hire you as our personal Kenny Rixton handler."

"I don't think there's enough money in the world to convince me to take that job."

Everyone around the table laughed. And dinner resumed. Forks clinking against plates as small talk surrounded the dinner table. Erin had enjoyed herself, watching Jay interact with his loved ones. She learned so much: a few stories of Jay and Will's childhood, how Ruzek and Burgess met and even a few date ideas from Natalie. She felt like she fit in. She felt like her friend group had just expanded and it was a welcomed feeling. She wasn't just Jay's girlfriend; she was Erin, a friend to them all –with the exception of Rixton.

With every minute that passed, members of the band finished their meal and left the table. Erin remained seated even though she was finished, "I'll take your plate," Kim offers, stacking her plate on top of her own, "Yours too, Jay."

"I don't mind taking it," Erin replied, reaching out to take it back.

"You're a guest, I'll take it."

Mouse pouts, "Hey, how come you never take my plate?"

"You're not a guest! You practically live in our basement."

Mouse stands, collecting his own plate, "Jay's not a guest either but you're taking his."

"Yeah, well Jay brought one of my favorite celebrities to my actual house. I'll take whatever he wants me to take," Kim nudged for him to leave the dining room.

The couple is left at the table. Both seated beside each other, shoulders occasionally brushing as both of their mouths open to talk; they both suddenly shut, not wanting to talk over the other. It had been a little awkward between them after Rixton left. He wasn't upset, but she didn't know that. All she knew was that he had been caught up in his thoughts and he only chimed into the conversation when a story involved him or a question was passed his way. She clears her throat and nods for him to be the first to talk, "I didn't realize how close you and Kelly were."

"Don't you have best friends?" She turns in her seat to face him.

"My bandmates are my best friends and I've never seen them naked."

"Guys are different," she nonchalantly shrugs it off, "If it's any consolation, he hasn't seen me naked since we started dating."

"Was that just coincidence?"

"If it makes you uncomfortable, I won't change in front of him."

He turns to face her, "You would really do that?"

"You're my boyfriend, of course I would," Erin reassures, covering his hand with her own, "I don't want you to feel uncomfortable about my friendship with Severide."

"I don't want to turn into one of those controlling boyfriends."

She chuckles, "It's not like you're making me eat salads when I want to eat a burger or something, and this is different. And give me a little more credit; it's not that easy to control me. I just understand because if the situation was reverse, I would want the same thing."

Jay smiles at her; his eyes glistening as he takes in just how amazing she is. He reaches forward to push a strand of hair behind her ear. At some point it had fell out of her messy ponytail.

"Guys, we're about to press play on the movie."

Erin ignores Ruzek's announcement, "Are we okay?"

"Of course," Jay answers, "And I'm sorry about Rixton being an ass. It seems a talk isn't enough. I think I'll actually have to buy him a muzzle."

"It's okay. He's not the first asshole I've come across."

"If it's any consolation, you definitely stood your ground."

"I've went up against bigger, stronger and smarter men in court, I can handle your friend.," Erin tossed back casually.

"Guys," they're called for again.

"Alright, we're coming."

Halstead rises to his feet, offering his hand out for his girlfriend. She grabs it and is pulled to her feet, "What time are your guards supposed to come pick you up?"

"I told them I'll text them when the movie is over."

His arm wraps around her lower waist as he leads her into the living room, "Don't forget your overnight bag is in my trunk."

"Trust me," she reassures with a pat to his chest, "I won't. My phone charger is in that bag. There's no way I'm forgetting it."

Erin flops down onto one of the loveseats in the living room as Jay disappears to run to the bathroom. The movie is loaded up and waiting to play. She has no idea what they're about to watch, but the guys seemed to be excited about it. Erin adjusts herself comfortably against the cushions of the seat, leaning her back against one the throw pillows.

"So Erin," Natalie is nursing another glass of wine, "when will I get the chance to see you again? I normally don't tour with the guys too often because I have a five year old son to take care of. And not to mention, he's starting school this fall so there's that."

She draws her knees up to her chest, "I didn't know you had a kid."

"Owen," she provides his name, "I had him with my deceased husband."

"I'm sorry," Erin offered only for Natalie to wave off her apology.

Jay returned soon enough and took his seat next to her. The lights were dimmed and he shifted, sliding his arm around her until she was nestled against his chest. Her body had slouched to one side, resting against his, her head on his shoulder and as the movie rolled, he couldn't help but brush his lips against the side of her head, seizing this moment for all it's worth, especially since neither knew the next time they would see each other.


	13. Top Trending

Erin's bare feet padded against the carpet inside of her closet. She had been searching for an outfit to wear to the congressional baseball game tomorrow but all her closet has showed her is that she needs to do laundry –and soon. Her brother was in the living room, flipping through television channels in search of something for them to watch while they eat dinner. She had Jay on speaker phone tucked into the back of her jean shorts pocket; it had become there routine thing in the last eight days since they said goodbye. They talked at least once a day, but they mainly text each other throughout the whole day to stay in touch and remain current on one another's lives. It's hard to believe she hasn't seen him, kissed him, touched him and been with him since she left Chicago, eight almost nine days ago. She honestly doesn't know how this long distance thing will work out but because he's confident in it, she's trying to be too. Erin's eyes fell upon a decent looking plaid shirt and regardless of whether she liked it or not, she pulled it off its hanger, "I seriously need to do laundry."

"What's stopping you?"

"I absolutely hate doing laundry," she admits, draping the plaid shirt over her shoulder and flicking off her closet light as she leaves, "I hate it more than cooking."

"Hire someone to do it," he offers the possibility.

And she shakes her head, forgetting that he's unable to see her.

When she gets no response, she remembers, "No. It's one of the many responsibilities of adulthood. Washing my own clothes is the least I could do. I might not like it but I have to do it."

"Look at you growing up," this earned an eye roll. And Jay chuckles, already picturing the act being done, "Oh, as I was saying, one of the reasons why I called-"

"I thought it was to hear my lovely voice."

"Among other things," he laughs, "but I noticed one of my shirts missing."

"One of your shirts," she repeats.

"Actually the last time I saw the shirt, I was taking it off of you. Do you happen to know what happened to it?" She bites upon her bottom shirt as she stares down at the oversized shirt she's wearing. It's a button-up and it falls to her mid-thigh, almost completely hiding her shorts.

"…maybe you misplaced it," Erin mused.

He hums, "…maybe or maybe my girlfriend stole it."

"I plead the fifth."

A heavy chuckle vibrates the mouthpiece of her phone as his laugh carries around her bedroom. She pulls her cell out of her back pocket and joins in on the laugh, feeling her chest fill up with joy and her gut fill with an emotion that she hasn't felt in a long time. She couldn't put a word on it. It was hard to define. And while she knew she missed him, she wanted to see him soon; she knew that might not have been in their near future. Both were busy, her with work, philanthropy and political functions and him with interviews, starting his new album and his upcoming tour. Their phone conversations always left her wanting and yearning for more; it was such a tease, to hear his voice, to sometimes see his face, making her feel as if he was close, but knowing he was so far out of reach. It was one of the downsides to having a long distance relationship.

"Erin, you got quiet," his voice takes on a solemn tone like he knows what she's thinking about.

She clears her throat, masking her true emotions as she replies, "I ordered my pizza and I'm wondering where the heck it is. I ordered it almost an hour ago." She was lying. And he knew it.

"We'll see each other again in June."

"…that's a month away."

"It'll go by so fast."

She sighs, "…these last eight days felt like years."

"Okay, overdramatic much," this tugs a smile onto her face, "with work, we'll be so busy that we won't even notice. And soon enough, I'll be on a plane to visit you."

If it wasn't for the knock on her front door, she would have responded. She knew that the knock meant her food arrived; it meant Capp had already patted down the delivery guy's pockets before making his rounds along the outside hallway. She takes Jay off speaker and puts the phone against her ear, "That's the food." When she left her bedroom, she saw her brother was still seated on the couch, flipping through channels. He didn't make a move towards the door because she had the cash. Justin planned to spend the night since she lived the closest to the baseball game and they would head over together tomorrow.

"You cooked?"

"Ha! Let's not get crazy. I wasn't lying when I said I ordered, hold on a second babe," Erin moved to the door with the cash for the delivery guy. She shuffled the phone back into her pocket before opening up the front door.

"Damn," the guy muttered as he stared wide-eyed at Erin.

"Pardon?" She smiles up at him, dimples evident in her cheeks.

He shook his head back to the present, "Um, oh yeah, sorry," he took the money from her and handed her the food, "Thanks."

"No, thank you," she nodded towards the box of pizza.

The guy was dry in the mouth, constantly swallowing to try and moisten the inside. He was star struck by her appearance. And maybe that wasn't the word for it but right now he couldn't focus enough to figure one out. It made the entire exchange awkward. He was sweating; his brow was practically dripping sweat down his face. It was kind of disgusting but Erin wouldn't judge him for it. She just wanted to get back inside, put her boyfriend back on speaker and eat her dinner.

Erin motioned to close the door but the guy found some type of confidence when his foot stepped forward, preventing the door from shutting. She reopened the door and gave Capp a calming look, ensuring him there's no need for him to get involved. This guy was no threat. You could take one look at him and tell he meant her no harm.

"Is there something I can help you with?" She had to ask when she realized he wasn't going to speak on his own. It was like he was waiting for permission from her.

"You're really pretty," he clears his throat, "extremely beautiful and I would never forgive myself if I didn't take a leap of faith to ask you out."

Erin appeared shocked at his question. It wasn't too often she was asked out face to face by guys. Anytime she was asked out, it was normally through social media or fan mail. Even Jay hadn't originally asked her out face to face. Sometimes men felt threatened by her profession, her income, her confidence and her independence so she respected any man who pushed aside his fears to actually ask her out. Erin could tell it took a lot from him to ask and she knew it was going to take a lot from her to turn him down.

"I have a boyfriend."

The guy took a step back and bashfully looked over to Capp, watching her guy quirk a brow in anticipation of his response. The pizza guy simply nodded in respect for her relationship status, "Well, he's a very lucky guy." He was embarrassed. He had to be at least two or three years younger than Erin and whatever sort of confidence he mustered to ask her out was shot down the moment she rejected him. She felt bad. She didn't even get a chance to try and bring it back up because he was already walking away, choosing to take the stairs instead of the elevator out of some effort of self-preservation. The elevator would take too long to come.

"I feel sorry for the kid," Capp whispered, watching as the door to the stairwell shut, "Ah, the age of young infatuation. I don't even think he realized the president's daughter was the one who ordered the pizza. He was surprised to find out I was guarding your door and had to search him and he was even more surprised when you opened the door."

"Do you think I should start including that in the additional details section when ordering online?" It was her way of easing up the mood. Capp seemed to enjoy the joke; he laughed.

Erin closed the door and locked it before bringing her phone back up to her ear. She sighs into the mouthpiece as she walks into the kitchen, "Sorry about that, but the food's here."

"I know. I _heard_." Jay's voice sounded deeper, more gravely and stern and the hint of jealousy were obvious in his tone.

She sets him on speaker, "Jay, you're not jealous of the delivery guy, are you?" Erin handed the box of pizza to Justin and held up her pointer finger to indicate she needed a minute.

She backed out and headed towards her room as Jay responded, "My emotions are just as surprising to me as they are to you."

Closing the door behind her, she leaned back against it, "Well, there's no need to be jealous. If you were listening, then you heard me tell him that I'm seeing someone."

"You're seeing me, Erin." His jealousy was kind of adorable.

"I'm well aware."

"You're with me." However, his possessiveness wasn't as much.

"I know that."

She heard the intake in his breathing, "What's the point in having our relationship all over the news when people still ask you out?"

"Not people," she laughed, "one guy."

"That doesn't make me feel better," he retorts as her leg bent and her foot came to rest against the door as she continued to lean back against it, "I just wish I wasn't in New York right now."

"You need to be in New York. You have that interview, remember?"

"Aye," he nods, sighing in defeat, "Are you going to be watching?"

"Do you want me to? I know some people get weird about that sort of thing."

"Yeah, you can watch. The interviewer is going to bring you up."

This piques her interest, "Is that so? What are they going to say?"

"I'm not exactly sure. I said they could only ask one question about you. Hopefully they stick to that. Right now they're probably back there trying to figure out what question to ask."

Erin laughs, "Well in that case, I'll definitely be tuning in. I'm curious about which question will make the cut."

In the background, Erin could hear Burgess call out for Jay; it was time for him to get dressed and prepped for the interview. Apparently the run down is they'll go out, answer questions and perform one of their hit songs. Erin had bought their most recent album and had played it on repeat since she attended Jay's concert last month. She had a couple favorite from his most recent album and unbeknownst to her, he planned to sing one of them on air.

"I'm sure you could hear Burgess in the background," Jay lightly chuckled.

"Yeah, you have to go. Tell everyone I said hi."

"Alright," he hesitates before ending the call, "Call you tomorrow?"

"…when I get back from the baseball game," she adds.

"Then you call me because I have no idea when that'll be."

Burgess' voice is heard in the background again, this time louder and more demanding. He had to go. And Erin didn't want to make him any later than he already was so she took it upon herself to end the call after wishing him good luck. She stood in her dark bedroom, hand gripping around her doorknob as she takes a deep breath. She's going to watch his interview and they're going to ask him a question about her. This was fine. This was alright. So, why did Erin feel like it wasn't? Maybe it's because this is the first time Jay will acknowledge their relationship to others in person. Millions of people will be watching and even though they're official and most people know it, there's nothing more official than verbally confirming your relationship status on live late night television. This was going to be a trending topic… and Erin hated being the center of attention. She worked best behind the scenes.

Erin leaves the comfort, silence and solitude of her bedroom to rejoin her brother. He's already started eating pizza without her. Justin didn't even bother to grab a plate –part of her thankful for it because that meant one less dish she had to clean. Dressed in a pair of sweatpants and an army t-shirt he's planning to sleep in tonight, his arm was leant against her countertop, the box of pizza opened in front of him and his ankle was wrapped around the other as he satisfied the growl in his stomach. She didn't complain; she had him waiting long enough. Instead, she leaned against the counter beside him, grabbed a slice and joined him in silence.

"In less than an hour we're watching District 21's interview." Justin rolled his eyes and scoffed. She catches the not so subtle expression, "And what's that look for?"

"I don't know what look you're talking about," he reaches for another slice.

"Oh don't play that game with me," she scolds, bumping her shoulder against his roughly, "you know exactly what I'm talking about. Spit it out."

"You're serious about this guy," it isn't a question.

"I want to get serious about him."

The mood of the conversation has shifted. She finishes up her first slice and grabs another, this time grabbing a paper towel to rest her slice on.

Justin nodded at her words, swallowing dryly before making his way over to her fridge, "And you're sure this is the guy that you want to get serious about?"

"None of you know the Jay Halstead that I know," she whispered, catching the bottle of water he tossed her way, "you all just know about what the media puts out there. You know the rumors and the persona that he puts on. You don't _really_ know him."

"You've been dating him officially for two weeks and you know him that well already?"

"I know it's surprising and I have a lot more to learn about him, but I know enough to know that I'm not wasting my time and I can see myself getting serious in this relationship."

His shoulders relax, "Does he think the same?"

"I assume so…"

"You assume," his brow rises as he opens his water bottle.

"I know he thinks the same."

"I hope you're right," Justin grabs the box of pizza and starts walking towards the couch; "It's almost time for the interview."

Erin is grateful he had been paying attention because she had honestly forgotten. She grabbed her phone, tucked it into her pocket and used her hands to carry over her bottled water and the paper towel holding her slice of pizza. She flopped down onto the couch as the credits for the last television show drifted across the screen. It was already on the channel. All they needed to do was patiently wait. And as the minutes ticked on by, she watched her brother in her peripheral very obviously watch her, "You know, I've heard that if you take a picture it'll last longer." She attempted to crack a joke; it was her to go to method to ease awkward situations.

Yet Justin paid no attention to it. Instead he reached out and nudged her shoulder, indicating for her to turn and face him, "You know I love you, right?" he waits until she nods, "And I just want to see you happy, so happy. After Charlie, the drugs, the alcohol, the bullying, the arrests, Nadia and the douchebags who thought they actually had a chance with you, you deserve to be happy and as your brother, don't matter if I'm younger than you; it's my job to make sure you get it."

"You're the best, you know that, right?"

Justin grins, "I do actually but it doesn't hurt to hear it."

"You're cocky," she laughs, reaching for the remote to turn up the volume.

"I never claimed to be humble."

-x-

As the host of the late night talk show walked onto the stage, a round of applause sounded to greet him. Cue cards were being shuffled behind the scenes, out of the eye of the camera, to direct the audience on when to start clapping. Jay always enjoyed seeing how production work, how everyone played a role and worked together like a well-oiled machine. The makeup artist dabbed his face with some type of blush that would stop him from sweating beneath the lights on stage. This wasn't his first interview; he's had plenty before, but this was his first interview that Erin would be watching. Millions will be tuned in and he knew that Erin Voight would be one of those many viewers. He brushed his sweaty palms over his dark jeans as Will approached them, "Alright, now you all already know how this is going to go but let me give you the rundown anyway. The host will go out, crack a few jokes and then introduce you. You all will go out, wave, smile and look pretty," they chuckled, "sit on the couches and answer the questions he asked. Jay," he waits until his brother looks over, "you already know they'll ask you a question about Erin, they might even ask you two or three."

"I only agreed to one."

Will shrugs, unbothered, "One might lead to another depending on the one they chose to ask."

"I didn't agree to this," Jay felt himself growing nervous; this wasn't a part of the deal. Will had already been pestering him the last couple of days to get him to agree to answer one question about her and now he tried to weasel in more. He didn't want to exploit his relationship with the first daughter to appease their fans, his reputation or anyone.

Will watched as lav microphones are carefully and strategically attached to each member to ensure that the cameras picked up on their voices. Jay shoved his hands into his pockets, biting his lip in nervousness now knowing that Erin is watching and she'll witness how the one question he assured her of would turn into two, three or god forbid an entire interrogation. Jay wouldn't let it get that far though; he'll walk off stage if he has to.

"Hey everybody," the host greets, waving towards the live studio audience; he didn't expect any greetings in return and once the cue card switched to end applause, he continued his spill, throwing in jokes and even a short story.

His brother used this window of opportunity to continue. Will gathered the whole band and continued his earlier rundown, "Questions will surround Erin, the tour, possibly a new album that has been rumored to come out next year, promotion of your current album and then you'll perform the two songs you guys selected. Your instruments are already set up and ready. So, they'll cut to commercial break to give you guys the opportunity to prep and ready yourself."

"Will, this isn't our first interview. We've been doing this for years," Rixton commented confidently, unbuttoning the top two buttons on his shirt; Mouse rolled his eyes.

"I know but I want no surprises," Will handed his clipboard over to Burgess to hold.

Jay rotated between listening to his brother and paying attention to the host, waiting for their cue to walk out. The host was currently in a long introduction of their band, running through their significant moments, including awards, accolades, billboard titles, etc. Jay was impressed. This introduction definitely made them seem more successful than he often felt. Maybe it's one of those things where everyone can see how great you are even though you can't. Modesty as Erin would often put it. He smiled thinking about her. She was watching.

On the backstage screen of the live show he saw a photo of the band pop up behind the host as he continues to introduce them; it's a photo of their most recent album cover.

"Let us please welcome District 21 everybody!"

The cue card was lifted off screen and the band was nudged by the executive producer to enter. This wasn't their first interview so why did it feel like it? Because she was watching that's why. Jay put on that confident and cocky smile, winked at camera number two and waved at the audience. He may have been nervous but that was something he planned to keep to himself. The applause grew louder as they continued to walk out onto the stage, briefly taking the hands of some of the audience members as they strolled through until they reached the four dark blue arm chairs.

Erin and Justin had finished their pizza just as the band took their seats. Jay sat in the chair between Ruzek and Mouse. Rixton purposefully chose to sit on the far end, the edge beside Mouse in an effort to keep distance between him and Halstead. Erin knew why; it was because of her. Jay had told her about the minor argument they had after she left dinner at the Ruzeks' house. She knew Rixton didn't like her and as the days went on it started to bother her less and less. Because he was one of Jay's closest friends, it bothered him the most. He wanted them to get along and she honestly did too but she couldn't force Kenny to like her. Erin watches Jay glance towards a camera, sending a wink to her all the way from the studio in New York. She knew the millions of girls watching were swooning, envisioning it being meant for them, but Erin knew exactly who it was intended for –her.

Justin must have picked up on it too because he jokingly nudged her shoulder.

The applause continued until the next cue card was raised. It now slowly started to die down as the host started talking, "Guys, thanks for being here! Thanks so much!" The applause was still going but was slowly dwindling down, "Jay, Kenny, Mouse, Adam, it is good to see you and on behalf of all who are watching tonight and myself, thanks again for being here. I know with the upcoming tour and all of that your schedules are pretty packed. How are you guys doing?"

"Pretty good," Jay answered simultaneously with his bandmates. The audience chuckled.

"Now speaking of this upcoming tour, how many cities are you guys tackling?"

Ruzek cleared his throat to answer, "It's a pretty short tour; ten cities in the span of a couple months."

"Is there a reason for this shorter tour?"

"Well we've already had a few concerts sprinkled out early in the year. We had two in Louisiana, one in Maryland, Virginia and Illinois," Mouse started to answer, sitting up as he began to clarify, "We originally weren't even going to do a tour for this specific album because it was released last year and wasn't as popular as our first album but the fans asked and pushed and we had to agree, so we decided to do a shorter tour to appease them. When our next album comes out, depending on its success, we'll probably consider a longer one."

"You guys will be traveling by tour bus?"

Rixton answered this time, "For most of the tour, yes. We have one concert planned in LA that we're flying to, and Arizona and Nevada too, but other than that, the tour bus will be our home for three months."

"And how is that? How is it sharing a tour bus with three other guys?"

"It can be…" Mouse thinks to himself, searching for the perfect word, "interesting." The audience chuckled and the host quirked a brow out of curiosity.

"How so?"

"This guy right here," Jay points to Kenny, "is abnormal like he doesn't need any sleep to function. We'll be parked for the night and we'll all be in our bunks and he'll come up to us with an address of a bar that's miles away. He'll catch a cab or an Uber and we won't see him until the next morning," the host appears impressed, smirking as Rixton shrugs his shoulders.

"Jay, used to join me," Kenny slides in the quip, "he still does occasionally, not as much now."

"And what do the other guys do?"

"Ruzek's married now so he's no fun," Rixton remarked, earning laughter from the audience as he continues, "Mouse is a computer nerd. All this dude needs is a laptop and he's content."

"And this tour bus is pretty huge…" the host added in.

"Yeah, for one person," Jay chimed into the conversation; a photo of the inside of the tour bus appearing on the screen for everyone to see, "it's a little cramped when it's four guys and a driver. The select staff that travels with us is on the other bus and they're even more cramped."

"Yeah, touring is not all it's cracked up to be," Ruzek added.

Erin pulled out her phone; the interview was already top trending. She clicked on the trend and skimmed a few comments, retweeting a couple that she found absolutely hilarious. This was definitely good publicity and it would without a doubt boost their sales for their latest album and whatever album they had planned to come out next year.

Touring continued to be a vital part of the interview and it only prolonged whatever question the interviewer was going to ask about her. She waited on the edge of her couch seat for the inevitable moment he brought her up. And as soon she saw a picture of her and Jay holding hands, the one she had seen days ago of them leaving his penthouse together, she knew the subject of the next question, "So, Jay," by the look on her boyfriend's face, he senses the topic change too, "you and the president's daughter seem to be the talk of the town." That was a statement, not a question; he didn't know how to respond so he chose to nod.

"How are things between you two?" Now he's posed with an actual question; it's one that makes him smile just at the thought of her.

"Things are good, really good actually. I'm a lucky guy." Erin smiled at his answer.

The photo of them transitioned into the one he posted when they first became official. His arm wrapped around her shoulders, her head resting against his chest, his eyes closed, his lips kissing her forehead, her eyes closed with a faint smile ghosting her lips. It happened to be her favorite picture of them. And apparently it was the first time Justin had seen it because the look on his face changed; he might officially be on her side when it comes to her relationship.

"And the band got to meet her?"

Erin turned away from her brother at the follow-up question. She wasn't expecting this. And by the look on Jay's face, he was. He nodded; smiling ear to ear as he nudged for a bandmate to verbally answer, "We did," Ruzek replied.

"How did that happen? How was it? I mean…she's the daughter of one of the most powerful men in the world; that has to be intimidating."

"It was a last minute decision actually," Jay answered, sharing his focus between the host, his bandmates and the audience, "she was giving a speech at the university, I got into contact with one of her guards and the next thing I know, I'm there with these knuckleheads, getting pat down to come watch and see her. It was great. She fit in really well." Erin smiled.

"So Erin got you all's seal of approval?"

"I was already a fan," Mouse proudly raised his hand, "And you know how they say never meet your heroes because you'll be disappointed," the host nodded, "well let's just say I was not disappointed. She's greater than I thought."

"And what about you two?"

Ruzek answered next, "Well my wife's a huge fan, if you ask her, she's a bigger fan than Mouse here," the bass player scoffed and the audience chuckled, "I already thought she was great because my wife talks about her any time we see her on the cover of a magazine, on a flyer or hear about her dad in the news or something. I don't know what she sees in Jay here, but we all have our imperfections," everyone, including Jay, Justin and Erin laughed at his joke, "but I really hadn't gotten a chance to really talk to her but from what I've seen and heard, she's amazing. If I said anything less, I would probably have to face an unhappy Mrs. Ruzek backstage." The audience and the host all laughed once again.

Erin pictured Kim. She wondered what the woman was doing and a part of her wish she had sought out her number to text her. She'll have to remember to do that next time. Erin glanced back down at her phone, reading a few of the comments and finding herself unbothered by the fans that still refused to believe that Jay Halstead, lead singer and electric guitarist of District 21 was off the market. She even liked the comments of those who came in defense of her honor.

"And what about you Kenny, you're quiet."

Justin noticed how Erin nearly dropped her phone when she heard the same question being redirected towards the fourth bandmate. He was slouched back in the arm chair, one leg bent and folded over the other, his hands intertwined and resting on his lap; he shrugged, "My mama always told me that if you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all." Jay stiffened.

The audience grew silent, hoping beyond hope that he would elaborate. When he made no move to do so, the interviewer pushed, "And what does that mean?" Erin didn't like the host. Jay looked like he didn't either.

"I mean…" he shrugs nonchalantly, "she was nice; that's about it."

"Vague…" the host remarked, furrowing his brows, "but I take it you don't like her."

"I will neither confirm nor deny that."

"That sounds like a confirmation to me," the interviewer inched to the edge of his seat, growing more excited with the change in conversation and the most recent discovery; his show was going to be trending and he was too happy about it, "Sounds like she fit in with everyone in the band, but you. Is it because of her dad? Did you not vote for him?"

"I didn't vote for him. I have no problem saying that, but that isn't it."

Jay continues to stiffen; Erin finds herself worried that if he stiffens anymore he'll break, "Next question please…I'm sure you want to talk to us about the progress of our next album."

"We have time for that," the host waves off the lead singer's interruption, "but for right now, my curiosity needs to be sated. And I'm sure the millions of viewers agree, don't you?" The audience clapped –the backstabbers.

Erin closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. She wanted the interview to be over. She wanted them to move onto their next topic. Shouldn't they be promoting their current album or at least talking about the one that Jay hadn't even started writing yet? Shouldn't they be preparing to perform two of their songs? She can't remember the last time there was a commercial break; now would be a good time for one.

"Hey…" she heard Justin whisper.

Erin ignored him. Instead she reopened her eyes and updated the tweets, reading the subject of majority of the tweets now speculating and passing along rumors as to why Rixton doesn't like her and does not approve of her relationship with his best friend. Those rumors are spreading like wildfire; she watches the retweets and the likes double, triple in seconds. The rumors ranged from her being an actual bitch in real life that only put on a show in front of the public to her dating Kenny a long time ago and him never getting over her. She wasn't paying attention to the interview anymore. She didn't even hear as the disagreement between him and Jay goes from a casual argument masked by pleasantries to full on arguing and shouting.

"They think I'm going to break up the band," she whispered aloud, "they think I'm a slut, they're diminishing all I have worked hard to build and become. They think I'm snobby, a bitch, clingy and controlling and it's all because they think I'm going to break up District 21."

"Who thinks that, Er?"

"All of social media," she practically tossed her phone onto the coffee table, "his fans, dad's opponents. I'm screwed Justin. Platt is probably going to call me at any moment to practically talk my ear off about maintaining an image that would not lose dad any votes."

"…maybe you should post something?"

She scoffed, "…like what? I don't need any more bad publicity."

Justin nods, dropping his earlier idea and instead pulling out his own phone. Erin had turned back towards the television and sighed in relief when she saw a commercial on. She heard her phone buzz but she ignored it. Another buzz came through and she ignored that too. Erin was not cut out for the spotlight. Before Jay she only ran into paparazzi occasionally and she was hardly the talk of celebrity gossip. If she was the topic, it was minor to the point where she hardly knew about it because it never spread or trended.

Justin's fingers flew across his cell, pressing against the screen aggressively as he stood to start pacing. She knew her brother. He didn't get angry, or at least this angry, too often. And now as she thought back to his idea of her posting something she realized that he dropped the subject too quickly without argument. Erin stood, "Justin hand me your phone."

"Give me a second," his fingers continued to rapidly move.

"Don't do what I think you're about to do," she ordered, reaching out for his phone only for him to move it away, "I can take care of myself. I don't need my _little_ brother to defend me!"

Since he typed the message out on the notes app on his phone, he took a screenshot of it, "Well too bad," and without further ado, he posted it to all of his social media accounts.

Erin didn't waste a second. She scrambled to grab her phone and ignored the two texts from Jay in her haste to get to Justin's Instagram account, "Oh gosh," she whispered; it was the first thing that she saw when she loaded up the app, "If Platt finds out about this…"

"I don't regret it."

"She's going to make you take it down."

"Not quick enough for people to not screenshot it…" that's what Justin was banking on.

"It's fine…"

"It's not. You're a good person. You've been through your fair share of obstacles that none of them know about and it's not right for them to act like every disaster is your fault."

She smiled, "Justin, no matter what I or anyone does, someone is going to complain, hate or find some way to diminish what we do; it just means we're doing something right."

She was wise for her young age. Her family attributed it to her having grown up at such an early age, taking on a life that many never have to face. She was exposed to violence, alcohol and drugs that toughened her up in the eyes of everyone but her close friends and family. They saw her vulnerability. The public only saw was a badass woman getting shit done without paying attention to anyone trying to bring her down. They didn't know what she had to go through to get there because her parents had successfully swept it under the metaphorical rug in an effort to keep the family's image clear. She suffered in silence for a long time until seeking out help with Dr. Charles, a psychiatrist who routinely checks up on her throughout the years.

Erin drew her eyes down to his post and silently read it to herself as the commercial ended.

 _Excuse any grammatical errors. I'm about to go on a rant. Since you guys want to spread stuff around so bad, how about you spread this? If you hear a rumor about my sister, how about instead of spreading it around like a bunch of middle schoolers, you ask her about it. Trying to ruin other people's lives isn't entertaining! Relationships are tough and hard enough without the bored and desperate outsiders and fans interfering in them. If you guys would put more energy into your own life than the life of my sister and her boyfriend then you might actually have a better, less pitiful one. Your jealousy and insecurity shows and it isn't pretty. It would be absolutely fantastic if you guys would mind your business as hard and as persistent as you're minding my sister's. So let me sum this all up for you; if it's not your man, not your job, not your family, not your friend and not your life, then it's not your business._

Erin liked the photo on one site, liked it on a different site and then retweeted it on the third. She set her phone down, reminding herself that later she would have to respond to Jay's texts, but for right now, she had something to say to her brother, "Justin-"

"I know what you're going to say and I don't regret it."

"Thank you."


	14. Change of Heart

It's just another work day. It's another day that Erin finds her precious 24 hours spent immersed and submerged in an overflow of paperwork. She's isolated in her corner office; it's one of the ways she prefers to spend her time at work. The office was painted gray and three of the four walls had floor-to-ceiling windows, one faced the downtown streets and the other two showed the hustle and bustle of paralegals, her secretary, court runners, interns and the occasional mail carrier delivering packages and letters. It was soundproof; it was one of the benefits of having her own office as she looks up from her tablet to see the rows and rows of cubicles, seeing the mouths of employees moving and laughing as they maneuver through the aisles with other coworkers, discussing their personal or professional lives, files in hand or stacked up and balanced to their chins. She watched two people accidentally bump into each other, spilling their paperwork all over the floor; she saw another person on the far side trip over the wheel of the mail cart and spill their coffee against their blouse. It was never a dull moment.

Erin started out like that. When she was first hired, she was at the cubicle closest to the elevator. She got used to the constant, disruptive noise in the office environment, but now that she has her own office –one that is soundproof- she kind of missed it –the little things. The small things that one doesn't even think about when immersed in a fast-paced environment filled with ambitious people that are always on the move; it was the littlest things like hearing people typing at their cubicles, someone sneezing, coughing, eating or even taking calls both personal and professional. It made it difficult to concentrate but now that she was no longer out there, she realized that it also made the environment comfortable. The floor to ceiling glass walls gave her the perfect view of peering into the workspace, being so close yet so far away that she sometimes found herself envious when she saw people gossiping at the watercooler, eating lunch with each other at cubicles or even taking group bathroom breaks. She saw them, but unfortunately that only meant they saw her too.

She was used to the lack of privacy, at least when it came to the outside world, but here, at work, she kind of craved it. She felt alone, secluded in her office and people tried to not look, tried to not make eye contact especially when they could sense her eyes on them; they tried to appear busy knowing that for all intents and purposes, the bosses favorite –probably because of nepotism- was observing them from the confines of her office. It didn't matter that the walls were made of glass and she could see them as clearly as they could see her; it didn't matter that the ability to shut her office door and cancel out any noise from the outside world gave her a leg up in concentration and work productivity. None of that mattered because at the end of the day, she felt truly alone, separated by that invisible fine line from people who make assumptions about her and those who don't. That fine line that clearly marked the separation between boss and employee, first daughter and civilian and wealthy and middle class.

All of that open space, the cubicles so close in contact that grants everyone the ability to see each other. Erin watches one girl –Shay, she thinks is her name- wave her hand in the air to get the attention of a guy sitting a few cubicles away. The earphones in his ears prevent him from hearing his name being called but he senses the hand waving and looks up to see what she wanted. It was the little things. Desk phones ring at the same time. Multiple conversations occur at once and she knows it's a skill to be able to focus on one conversation while cancelling out the others. It's the atmosphere, the ambiance of it all. She gets the occasional greetings that remain professional. When she comes into work, choruses of good mornings follow her as she makes her way through the cubicles and towards her office. Good byes and see you tomorrows are provided on the few occasions she leaves before them. And any time someone initiates a conversation with her, it's when they come to update her about the progress of their case or to provide her with what she needs to close a deal, an investigative update, a filed affidavit or one of the many tasks conducted by her brilliant paralegals.

Most of the conversation she has is with clients, one of her bosses or her secretary and it's all work related. Her bosses only come for updates on her cases, to assign her a case or to get her opinion on a new intern they stuck under her care. Her secretary only contacts her when she has a call or to update her about her schedule. Other than that, the older woman remains silent, turning absolutely everyone away if they even attempt to knock on her office door without an appointment. Erin continues to look out into the open work space; she notices a few interns crowded around one cubicle, glancing down at some sort of video on the desktop computer. The office building has a total of twelve floors; she's on the tenth. Her boss and the bosses of the other corner-office occupants are on the eleventh. The named partners and associates are on the twelfth. While a law firm employed with a bunch of lawyers, paralegals, unpaid interns and law clerks and court runners, the cubicles and floors are also filled with other employees: IT specialists, record and bookkeepers and investigators. Some of which are on the floor with her; she's with three other lawyers who all have corner officers, she's with rows of paralegals, a few secretaries scattered about, investigators waiting to assist on an open case and a nice amount of interns eager to learn and help.

Erin finally turns away when she hears her phone vibrate against the top of her desk. She's on the floor, sitting crisscross with her laptop on her lap. She's comfortable, too comfortable to move from this position to go get it. Erin hears it vibrate again. The vibration of it sends it off the corner of her desk and onto her pale brown, carpeted floor. Her phone lands face-up, and it continues to vibrate until the call goes to voicemail. Whoever is calling should know she's at work and if the call is that important, they'll just call her office and her secretary will patch the call through. She glances up at her desk phone positioned at the corner of her desk, kind of expecting for it to ring. Also on that desk of hers sat a notebook lying open, a few pens sitting inside of a holder, a stack of papers sitting beneath a Illinois-shaped paperweight and two framed photos –one of her and her parents and brother after graduating from law school and the other of her, Kelly and Nadia a few days after Erin had gotten Nadia a job at the police department. A brown, leather swivel chair is pushed up to the center of her desk, seemingly brand new and barely used since Erin always found herself planted on the floor. In front of her desk, sat two chairs diagonally situated so the occupant could face each other and the person sitting behind the desk. It was a tactic designed that one sees many times in office settings and although it's wise and convenient, Erin doesn't use it –at least not as often as one would assume. That desk creates a barrier between her and whoever she's meeting with, it creates a formal atmosphere. It's a metaphorical fine line between two people, a line that is a reminder of work, professionalism, formalities and a line that sometimes gave the semblance that the person sitting in the swivel chair on one side of the desk has more importance than the one or two people sitting in the cushioned armchairs on the other.

She doesn't like the vibe that it puts out. It's all about comfortability regardless of if they're a client, a potential client, her boss, an employee at the law firm, a family member or friend or even someone from the opposition. She built her career on ensuring that no one felt judged or inferior in her presence. And if sitting on the floor or walking around her office barefoot did that, then she would happily –and without complaint- oblige. She preferred it that way anyway.

In the corner of her office, there was a radiator permanently positioned and installed against the only wall in the office with no floor to ceiling windows. It was turned off due to the heat outside and the fact that she had managed to talk her frugal boss into turning the air conditioner on in the building instead of having to rely on fans. In the opposite corner of the same wall there was a bookshelf, bursting with books she's collected over her three years in law school. And on top of the bookcase sat yet another stack of paperwork held down by a paperweight in the shape of the nation's capital.

Majority of her office was unused. From the desk and the swivel chair to the brown couch situated against the same wall as the bookcase and radiator. Most of the furniture was purely for decoration. When she was promoted and given her own office, as a congratulatory gift her mother decided to surprise her with decorating her office. It had only come with a desk, a radiator and a swivel chair. Everything else was purchased by her mother. Thankfully though, her brother and father had as much say about the surprise as Camille did; it was a family gift. One she truly did appreciate and was surprised by, one for them somehow managing to keep it under wraps with only her boss and secretary knowing and the other for her father and brother being able to remind her mother that this was Erin's office, not her own and her daughter most likely didn't want or need expensive artwork hanging on the walls or her own coffee machine since there was one down the hall in the lounge.

The outside sunlight illuminates her office. She loves the natural light the windows provide, especially since the ceiling light was dim and flickered at strobe-like intervals, obviously in need of a bulb change. She put in a request for it. It's going on six days since it's been submitted. So until they get around to it, it stays off and she sits near the window to get as much sunlight on her paperwork as possible.

Behind black rimmed glasses were eyes of exhaustion. She briefly lifts the glasses up to pinch the bridge of her nose before grabbing the next file beside her. It feels as if no matter how much paperwork she goes through, the pile never reduces. What's all this talk about saving the trees? With as much paperwork sitting to the left and right of her, it seems whoever had given these to her secretary had forgotten or overlooked the sign beside the copier that reminds the user to recycle and cut back on using so much paper.

The clock on the wall is ticking slow, very slow; if it were going any slower, it wouldn't be moving. The area around where she's seated is in a state of organized clutter. She's exhausted. She was the first to arrive and by the looks of what she needs to get through by the end of the day, she'll be the last to leave. She needs a break. She pushes her laptop off her lap and crawls the short distance to swipe her phone off the ground. It was a missed call –two, actually- both from Jay. She had been meaning to call him. It's been a week since his interview, since the very public message her brother put out on social media, and the rise of the rumors that the band is breaking up because of a girl. She needed time. And she had it, the day afterwards she shut her phone off, but now she was okay, she meant to contact him but she had been so busy with work that she never found the time. He probably thinks she's avoiding him and she couldn't blame him for that. She would have thought it too.

Erin is prepared to call him and comes close to it when there's a small knock against her glass door; she looks up, "Come in." It's the mail carrier.

"Hey Erin," he greets her, leaving his cart outside the door as he grabs a vase, "your secretary still scares me by the way."

She chuckles and stands, "She's not that scary once you get to know her. Between you and me," Erin approaches him with a mischievous glint in her eye, "she loves chocolate. Her face will light up if you bring her any type or form of chocolate. You'll have her wrapped around your finger. I guarantee you."

"I'll have to keep that in mind," he smirked.

The mail carrier extends a glass vase towards her, waggling his eyebrows when she carefully takes a hold of the vase. A dozen white lilies – her new favorite- rest inside the vase, waiting patiently for water to be added. The mail carrier is way ahead of her though, reaching inside the cart to withdraw a bottle of water and popping the lid to give the flowers enough water to cover the stems. Erin brings the flowers towards her nose and inhales the scent, "Thanks Matt."

"I didn't get them for you," he joked, grabbing the handle of his mail cart, "It seems you have a secret admirer because no note was attached."

"I know who they're from," she chuckled, carrying the vase over towards her desk.

Matt disappears. He's gone without even a goodbye. Erin shrugs, too absorbed by the beauty of the flowers and the man who had sent them to her to even care. She sets the vase down on her desk and goes to retrieve her phone. Now was the perfect time as any to give him a call, but despite her profession, she's not that great with words, at least when it comes to her emotions. She saw another text from him, this one consisting of an apology that he didn't need to give. He did nothing wrong. If anyone should apologize, it should be her for giving him the silent treatment whether intended or not. Jay defended her on stage. He reached out to her through text in the middle of his interview. He had tried to call her and all she could think about was the angry and aggressive teenage fans of his whose emotions fluctuated so much that one would argue they couldn't be held responsible for their actions, for what they've tweeted at her or the comments some of them left beneath her posted photos. Still, regardless it kind of hurt.

All of that was in the past now as Erin takes a photo of the flowers and sends them off to Jay with a short message attached; _I may possibly have a secret admirer –EV_

-x-

Jay wasn't busy; he was strumming his fingers over the strings of his guitar. In front of him were a notepad and a pencil, both unused because nothing was coming to mind. He had no muse, usually with his lifestyle, going out, drinking, partying and hooking up with girls gave him that creative burst of energy. Now that didn't seem to be enough. His muse was gone and he was suffering from a bad case of writer's block. He'd been sitting on his barstool since he woke up this morning struggling between starting this new album and continually trying to reach out to Erin. He had no such luck, but it didn't stop him from trying –which was weird. A couple of weeks –two- they've been dating and here he was hung up over a girl for not answering his phone calls. This wasn't like him. This was not him at all. Maybe Rixton was right about this whole thing; maybe this relationship wouldn't last, maybe they're too different, maybe because they come from different worlds they won't work out.

It has to be a sign that he feels himself falling hard for her. He doesn't know what or why but all he knows is that he couldn't help himself, he had to defend her, reach out to her and send her flowers in an attempt to clear the air and make peace. Jay had read her brother's post; it had been the talk of celebrity gossip for a few days since the interview. It was the most publicized 'beef' as social media called it between two separate worlds that normally never crossed paths –politics and music. This apparent rumored beef between District 21 and the president's son wasn't true, at least on his end. The media will feed upon anything someone gives them. Justin Voight gave them a hook to which they happily latched onto, instigating rumors of his band breaking up just to have something to talk about late at night.

Jay stood up and pulled the guitar strap from around his shoulder. He leaned his choice of instrument against his bar and ventured over to check his cell; he had a message. His phone was on silent but something within him pushed him towards checking it. He smiled at her message; she had gotten the flowers he had delivered. Jay unlocked the screen and typed out a quick response; _there's nothing secret about us, but I am glad you like the flowers –JH_

He sees the gray bubbles at the bottom of the message, indicating that she was currently typing her reply, _Oh, the flowers were from you, -EV_

Her message rubbed him the wrong way. Why the hell would she question if they were from him or not? Who else sends her flowers? Why does someone else send her flowers? Wait. What is happening? He wants to call her, texting her took too long, but by the hard knock pounding at his front door, he knew that would have to wait. Unfortunately, she would have to wait.

Jay glanced down at the blank notebook, swiping up the pen to stick above his ear as he ventured off towards the front door. He walks unhurriedly, "I'm coming," he shouts when the knocking continues, "I said I'm coming," he swings open the door with more force than expected.

"I see you're not in the best mood," his brother mentions kindly.

"Why would I be?" Jay steps to the side to let Will in, "and what's he doing here?"

The bitterness in his voice is in reference to Rixton standing a ways away behind his brother. The keyboard player simply waves, appearing unbothered by the tension in the room. He doesn't care, at least, he pretends as if he doesn't. One could never fully know with Kenny. His brother remains standing beneath the threshold and Rixton helps himself into Jay's penthouse, brushing between the two brothers as he helps himself inside.

"Watch it," Jay is obviously not in the mood.

Will regrets coming over now. It would have been better if he called first. An unplanned intervention may not have been the best course of action but since they're all here now, he might as well go through with it. Will wonders in what way to even approach the topic; it's the metaphorical elephant in the room yet he struggles with finding a way to bring it up. Instead, his attention zeroes in on the pen resting above his brother's ear; it's the sign of his brother at work.

"Have you been working on the album?" It's the best he could come up with to fill in the silence.

"I was trying to," Jay slams the door shut, "but Will what is he doing here?" Jay wasn't in the mood to beat around the brush or pretend as if there wasn't bad blood between him and Kenny.

"It's time you two talked this all out."

He shook his head, "I have nothing to say to him."

"I told you he would say that," Rixton remarks which seems to only frustrate Jay even more.

Jay removes the pen from behind his ear and ventures back over towards his notepad. Maybe he could channel these feelings into something worth writing down? It'll give his emotions a purpose and an outlet because right now, if he continues to stand and watch the smug look on Kenny's face as he continues to spout insensitive comments, he's going to deck him. And he won't regret it. And he definitely won't apologize for it. And because he wants to maintain some semblance of peace and maturity, he turns on his heel and ventures back over to his bar, taking a seat onto the barstool and dragging the notepad closer.

His brother unfortunately follows, "You can't keep giving him the silent treatment."

"Kim and Mouse aren't speaking to him either," Jay casually retorts as if he were unbothered.

"I've already spoken to them."

"And what did they say?"

"That's not the point."

"I knew it," Jay said, lying his pen down with a sigh, "Look Will, I have nothing to say to him, not until he apologizes to Erin."

Will nodded, accepting the terms of his brother's compromise, "Rixton, apologize to Erin and then we can start moving on from here."

Kenny laughs, "She's the last person I'm apologizing to; I didn't do anything wrong."

"You didn't do anything wrong?"

Will wants to jump in but he's just grateful that his brother is talking to Rixton. He's no longer the middle man, the messenger, like he's been since the interview. Between him and Natalie, they were exhausted from having to pass along messages between Rixton and the other members of the band –besides Ruzek- because they didn't know how to act like adults. Enough was enough. He spoke to Mouse and Burgess, and while it didn't go as well as planned, they did agree to _try_ and talk to Rixton, give him the benefit of the doubt considering his past history with women. Jay, on the other hand, was another story; he was going to be harder to convince due to his strong feelings for the first daughter. And while his brother's words may have sounded bitter and harsh, he was just happy that he was talking.

"I was just being honest. He asked for _my_ opinion and I gave it!"

Rixton was meeting Jay eye for eye, chest to chest, as if it was a competition trying to find the toughest, manliest and strongest guy. Common ground was not going to be reached if both are arguing, if both continue to listen with the intent to respond rather than the intent to understand. This is the only reason Will stepped in, tugging his brother back and moving to stand between the two men, "Please just talk it out, if not for your friendship then for the fans. Social media is going crazy right now with the rumors about the band calling it quits."

"…that's not my problem."

"Jay, do you hear yourself?! That is the definition of your problem."

Halstead just shrugs it off, sliding back onto his barstool, "They need to stop believing everything they hear and read," he lifts his pen.

"Damn it! You both are too stubborn for your own good," Will approaches his brother, snatching the pen from his hand to earn his attention, "Jay, this is one girl, _one girl_ , and yeah she's cool, I like her for you, she's great and all, but she's not worth the rift that she created between the two of you. I need you to be the bigger person and fix this because Rixton is obviously not."

"Hey!"

"Shut up," Will snaps towards the keyboard player before returning his attention back to his brother, "Please just look at this," he silently reaches into his pocket and pulls out his cell, "Natalie sent me these screenshots. Your girl has been on social media. She hasn't posted anything but she's shared a lot of stuff; that has to mean she's good, right?"

"That means nothing," Jay shoves the phone out of his face before snatching his pen back.

Will tries a different tactic. After shoving the phone back into his pocket, he climbs onto the barstool beside his brother's seat, "You and I both know how Rixton is. We really shouldn't be surprised," he ignores the glare being sent to him by Kenny, "I'm not saying you two have to go back to how things were before, but just let bygones be bygones. You've known each other too long and we need to get back to work."

"I'm willing to let it go if you are," Rixton sighs, taking one cautious step towards his friend.

"Of course you are," Jay spats, holding the tip of the pen over the page. No words come to mind. He's suffering from a serious case of writers block.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Rixton's tone is defensive.

And Jay shrugs, smirking as he slams the pen down onto the blank notepad, "It means that when you're in the wrong, you always want someone to just let it go! Oh but if one of us does something that you don't agree with then we don't hear the end of it."

"Alright man," Kenny inhales a deep breath before releasing it, "I'm sorry," it's harder for him to say those words than anything else. Just like Jay, he rarely ever apologizes. And now here he is, trying to preserve his friendship and the band by apologizing.

And Jay knows his friend, he knows that those words are difficult for him to say and he doesn't want to press his luck. He doesn't want writers block. He doesn't want to be the talk of the social media world. He wants all of this behind him. And he sent Erin flowers, and she initiated contact with him and she's on social media, she's no longer hiding from it so that's saying something. Maybe he could let it go just this once. Maybe he could have a change of heart. Forgiveness was hard for him to give just as much as an apology was, yet Jay finds himself standing up, setting his pen down and slowly approaching his friend, "Okay." It's all that's needed to be said. That word translates to an acceptance of his apology, to an agreement that he's going to let bygones be bygones.

Kenny's grin was triumphant as he approaches to pat his closest friend on the back of the shoulder, "How about a drink to celebrate?"

Will sighs in relief the second Jay nods. It seems as if the intervention was a good idea. Will grins proudly as the three of them approach the bar.

"Oh, one more thing before we drink," Jay said, waiting for Rixton to turn his head in question. And the second Halstead knew he had the keyboard player's undivided attention, he pulled his fist back and swung it across Kenny's jaw, hard enough to send him stumbling backwards.

Rixton grunts. Will gasps. Jay tries to shake the sharp pain out of his hand.

"Don't you pull any fucking shit like that again," Jay stretches his fingers in an attempt to ease the ache shooting through his knuckles.

Stretching his shoulders and walking with a spring in his step, he ventures behind his bar, and grabs two glass tumblers, "What can I get you?" He questioned brightly, glancing over to Kenny who stood frozen to the spot continually rubbing his jaw.

"…something really strong."

Jay smirks; it serves him right. Hopefully Rixton will remember that hit the next time he's on live television talking about his girlfriend.

-x-

The sun was at rest and the moon was at work. Besides the flickering light above Erin's head, the brightness on her laptop screen and the moonlight shining through the window provided some type of light for her to continue working. She remains seated on the carpet, only getting up three times today to either eat or use the restroom.

The floor was nearly empty, most people sticking to the nine to five schedule and heading home, but Erin remained, needing to catch up on work she had fell behind on. She was planning to pull an all-nighter, along with a few other lawyers and interns scattered throughout the quiet workspace. Even Erin's secretary decided to stay, clocking in for overtime in order to get her grandson a new and expensive videogame that'll be released soon.

Since it's the middle of May, a lot of flowers have bloomed and allergy season has kicked in for her. Now she prefers to stay indoors whenever she can to avoid the burning eyes, scratchy throat and constant sneezing as a result of the pollen in the air. She rubbed her nose and did absolutely everything to avoid rubbing her eyes. She needed an allergy pill –and fast.

Erin adjusted the laptop on her lap. For the past three hours, work had been put on the back burner and she had opened up a few tabs with varying search engines in her quest to find a suitable present for her father's birthday next month. It proved to be more difficult than she thought, scheduling in an hour or two to dedicate to searching, only for that hour and two to turn into three. Erin was so close to giving up; she had just read the reviews on a pocket watch when a soft knock rapped against her closed door, "Can I come in?"

She didn't look up from her computer screen, "I'm surprised my secretary let you make it past her to even knock on the door."

"I waited until she left," he crossed the room and flopped down onto her office couch, "She made a bathroom run and I used that to my advantage. It was Atwater I had to weasel myself through, but I promised I wouldn't disturb you for long and he let me right on in."

Erin rolled her eyes before looking up at him, "Quick question; what do you get for a man who has absolutely everything?"

"You talking about your dad?"

"Who else would I be talking about?"

This time Landon rolled his eyes. He leaned back on the couch, feet propped up on the arm of it, shutting his eyes and resting his hands over his stomach, "How about a tie or something?"

"I am not getting my dad a tie."

Landon popped one eye open.

"…I got him that last year," Erin felt the need to explain.

"How about you make him something?"

"I don't have an artistic bone in my body."

Erin sat her laptop to the side and rose to her bare feet. She grabbed her laptop and carried it over to sit upon the top of her desk, grabbing the charger and plugging it up to ensure that she didn't lose any of her work or the links she found for possible birthday gifts. For the first time today, she pulls out her desk chair and takes a seat, "So what exactly brings you here?"

"I had a job interview," he nonchalantly answers.

"I don't care about that," she waves it off with the flick of her wrist, "I mean what are you doing here…in my office?"

Landon's eyes popped open and he sat up, maneuvering himself to put his feet back onto the ground. His legs are bent and spread open and his arms rest upon them as he leans forward, "I was thinking you could give me a few job pointers and tips…maybe over dinner?"

"You're incorrigible."

"That's not a no," he happily remarked.

"I'm busy," she's back on her laptop; this time the internet browser is minimized and she's back to work, typing vigorously along the keyboard. Her attention is drawn to the screen and she silently notes that Landon didn't respond instead he chooses to quietly watch her, and she finds herself compelled to continuously look over the screen of her laptop, "What?" It becomes hard to ignore. She looks up at him for good and yanks the glasses off her face.

His eyes lower, "Is it true?"

"Is what true, Landon?"

"…that you and your boy toy broke up?"

Erin pushes herself up from her seat and walks around to casually sit against the edge of her desk, "Don't call him that," her arms cross over her chest defensively, "Also, he's not my boy toy and that's not true. Where are you getting your news?"

In response he silently holds up one finger, indicating for her to wait as he types something into the search engine of his phone. Once the article of his desire is found he rises to his feet, crossing the space of her office to hand his phone over to her, "I didn't search you or your guy's name or anything," she rolled her eyes at his comment, "I just so happened to be on Facebook and I came across the article. It says Jay broke up with you in an effort to keep his band together."

The phone is snatched from his hand before he even has a chance to hand it over. She's scrolling to the top of the article, skimming it in a rapid fashion in an effort to take in all of the fraudulent information being spewed and discussed about her relationship. According to this article, Jay had in fact broken things off with her because he wanted to keep his band intact and mend his relationship with Rixton after the argument on live television. It has the nerve to even say the information came from a trusted source that they refused to name. The article continues to talk about how Jay broke things off with her after her brother's post to social media, calling out the reporters and his fans for all the bullshit they've been saying about her and their relationship. It had even been surmised that another reason they had broken up was because Jay felt insecure in the relationship, apparently because she was an educated and successful woman who made a nice salary from her law career and her occasional public speaking. Honestly, she had no idea how much he made annually and he didn't know how much she earned either. The tabloids always had a way of finding a problem that was not there.

Erin maintains a straight face, using every fiber of her being to keep her face unreadable. It was a task, definitely a struggle if she had to admit. She handed his phone back to him and pulled a mocking smile to her face, "You shouldn't believe everything you read."

"You can't blame people for believing that. I mean…when was the last time you guys saw each other?" He tucks his phone back into his back pocket.

"It's a part of being in a long distance relationship." She says matter of fact, "And why do you care? We're not friends."

"Ouch," he chuckles dryly.

"Oh don't act surprised."

"So before we get started on the job tips," he casually scrolled over to the floor to ceiling glass walls that showed them the outside workspace; Landon knocked gently against the glass until he earned Atwater's attention and waved for him to enter the room.

"What are you doing?" Erin is eyeing him suspiciously.

The look on her face matches the one on Atwater's as he pokes his head inside of her office, "You needed me?" Even though it was Landon who waved for him to enter, it was Erin he was looking at, waiting patiently for any direction or order he assumed she was going to give.

"Actually I needed you," Landon announces, withdrawing his wallet from his pocket, "I was thinking you could pick me and Erin up some Thai food from down the street." The folded bills were extended towards Atwater, yet he made no move to take them.

Erin was irritated. "They're not servants, Landon. That's not in their job description." That irritation was strong and present in the tone of her voice.

"I've seen them pick up food for you before."

Atwater chimed in, "That's out of the kindness of our heart, not out of occupational obligation."

"So that's a no?" The money is still extended towards Atwater, "I'll give you a tip."

This doesn't faze him. Not taking brides happens to be a part of their job descriptions. He ignores it instead of placing him under arrest for the federal crime of bribery, especially while he's on the clock, in an official capacity that holds him under the oath of protecting the president's daughter. Truthfully a simple bribe wouldn't get him in any trouble, but Atwater was willing to give it a shot –he really didn't like the guy.

Erin read the expression on his face, knowing Atwater the most out of all of her guys, and struggling to pass along a silent message, thanking him for his patience with Landon. Fortunately it was received because Kevin's shoulders relaxed and he presses on a genuine smile when he looks back over in her direction, "Do you want Thai food Erin?"

She did. She really wanted some Thai food. But, and that's a huge but, she didn't want Atwater to get it and she didn't want to eat it with Landon. So, the answer would have to be no.

"I'm not hungry. I had a big lunch," she lies smoothly.

Atwater's eyes lower, taking in her avoidance of eye contact. She makes no acknowledgement of it; instead, she resumes her previous work.

"Then Landon, I guess that's a no." He doesn't wait for any type of rebuttal that would attempt to persuade and change his decision. Atwater shuts the door behind him and ventures off in search of the other guards.

Erin unplugs her laptop once it's powered up enough and carries it back over to her spot on the carpet. She sits cross-legged, with the laptop on her lap and surrounded once again by her phone to the left of her, a tablet to the right and files spread out in between.

"Since food is out of the question," he grunts, taking a seat across from her on the carpet, "how about you give me pointers over work? I can help you out and in return tell me all the ins and outs of successfully working for one of the top civil law firms in the metropolitan area."

"How about no?"

Landon appears surprised and she elaborates, "If you do get the job, you'll have to pull your own weight just like everyone else. New hires, specifically lawyers here, aren't privy to the ins and outs via word of mouth; they have to learn them on their own. No offense, but no one's special, the same goes for you too Landon, regardless of what you think."

"I just assumed-"

"That's where you went wrong," she pulled a thick file onto her lap and opened it, "you should never make assumptions especially without proof."

"As friends I thought-"

She interrupts him once again, "We're not friends," her eyes remain focused on the opened file on her lap, skimming over the notes she made in the margin; "If you don't mind, I do have work I need to get back to. And if you want to stop by my office again, make sure you schedule in an appointment with my secretary. That's one of the reasons why I hired her."

Her final statement doesn't give him room to argue. Erin knows that the fine line between friends and acquaintances had been blurred between her and Landon, mostly on his part due to his flirtation and his lack of understanding the word no. He's pushy; he's used to getting what he wants. And Erin was guilty of not putting her foot down, of saying no one second and then giving in the next to get him off her back. But, she's growing and times are changing. She's in a relationship that's bringing out a part of her she hadn't seen in a long time, a part of her that's starting to not care what others think, a part that refuses to be used, a part that she feels comfortable and mostly herself in.

It's as if her thoughts conjure him up because she receives a text in the precise moment that she envisions the next time she'll see him.

 _Sorry for the late response, Rixton came over and apologized, -JH_

A part of her wanted to be just as petty and make him wait for her response like he did with her, but another part of her –the adult part- knew that she shouldn't and she wasn't patient enough to wait. She lifted her phone and responded, _I'm glad you two are on speaking terms again, -EV_

Landon makes his way to her office door, reaching out to grab the door but hesitating as a thought crosses his mind, "Erin," he waits until she looks up before he continues, "I just wanted to make peace, especially if we're going to be working together."

"You don't work here."

"…at least not yet," he corrected, finally pulling the glass door open, "I'll know by the end of the week. And if I do get it, we're going to have to learn to work together, especially if I'm going to be working under you. You know how to contact me if you have a change of heart."

As he left, Erin realized that every part of her didn't want him to get the job. For a brief moment, she hoped he wasn't hired. It's one thing to see Landon every once in a while in the courtroom, but every day at work was another story. She ran her hand through her hair just as her phone vibrated again, _I truly am sorry, -JH_

He must have sensed something in her last message. She wasn't upset with him though, at least she didn't think she was. Maybe the silent treatment wasn't the adult thing to do but she was human, she needed a chance to get her musings together, especially since most of the rumors reflected poorly on her.

 _You have nothing to apologize for, Jay, -EV_

 _Why do I feel like I do, -JH_

 _Probably because I sometimes suck at communication, -EV_

 _Is that your way of apologizing, -JH_

 _It's the start of it. I apologize, -EV_

Jay messages her again but there's a light knock on her door and she's unable to check and respond right away, especially because it was her boss at the door. Mr. Peter Mills, her boss, poked his head inside her office the second she acknowledged his presence, "Do you have a minute?"

"For you," she shuts the file with a smile, "always."

Peter made his way inside and took a seat on the arm of her couch. Erin had a lot of respect for him, even though he sometimes drove her crazy with his demands. Mr. Mills had worked for most of his life; as a teenager he worked in his family's restaurant and then when he graduated from high school he became a firefighter for a few years before realizing that wasn't his calling. He continued to be a firefighter to pay his way through undergrad and law school and he had devoted the rest of his years to climbing up the ladder. He was a few years older than her and the true definition of a workaholic. Peter was normally the first person to arrive to work and the last to leave; his office was a floor above hers and he rarely ever ventured below. Normally, his secretary would call hers to pass along a message or to summons her to his office. Tonight, since now both of their secretaries were gone, he came to pay her a visit.

"I see you're working," Mills proudly noticed, nodding towards her swarm of paperwork, "so I won't keep you long. I had an interview today with your friend Landon."

"We're not friends."

Peter's brow rises out of curiosity, "That's interesting to know. We were thinking about hiring him. We wanted your opinion since he did name drop you to my recollection at least ten times."

"If he didn't know me or name drop me, would you hire him?"

Her boss clasped his hands over his lap as he leans forward still perched on top of the arm of her couch. Peter hums to himself, considering her words, "Would your work ethic be affected if we hired him and placed him under your supervision?"

"Honestly," she looked up to see Peter nod, "it would. I'm not saying don't hire the guy, I'm not paid to make those decisions, but knowing Landon, I won't be able to focus because he'll distract me. And if I'm being completely honest, Landon came to me weeks ago trying to convince me to help him get a job here. I turned him down. He's never worked for anything in his life and when he's challenged, instead of stepping up to the plate, he slacks off. He was demoted from his last job because he couldn't keep up, he couldn't do the work required of him and his success rate for closing cases was very small. He's never said this but I think he wants a job here because of my position, he figures since I'm high on the chain of command that I'll protect him when he slacks off, that I'll defend him if there's a threat of demotion or being fired. He wants the easy way out and I don't want him to work under me because of that," Erin shrugs, pulling her laptop onto her lap, "but that's just me and I'm not the boss, you are."

"You're right about that," he rises back to his feet and gives her a kind smile, "and I'll keep that in mind. I have a few more interviews tomorrow and the partners aren't expecting me to make a decision until the end of the week. I'll let you know what I decide once I do decide."

"Thank you."

"It's my job to make sure this floor works efficiently."

Peter disappears. Erin sighs. She didn't technically tell him not to hire Landon but she gave him enough information for him to reach that decision. Hopefully the other interviews aren't horrible to the point where he has no choice but to hire Landon. She won't be picking up his weight or making excuses for him slacking off. It wouldn't be fair to her, the other lawyers at the firm or their current and potential clients. Her phone vibrates again and she realizes that she left Jay's message unread; now two messages wait for her.

 _Are you busy, -JH_

That was the message she had gotten before Mr. Mills came into her office.

 _I guess that's a yes, -JH_

She quickly responded, _I'm at work but I always have time for you, -EV_

Erin pictured the grin that was most likely on his face. It pulled a smile onto her own as she waited for his reply. A text from her phone didn't come. Instead, her laptop started ringing as the video chat icon of his photo popped up. She didn't hesitate to answer, waiting a few seconds for both of their images to clear up before greeting him, "Hey."

"Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes," is his response.

It's an hour difference between D.C. and Chicago; it's nothing too drastic and neither really pays attention to it because of the small time change. Erin glanced at her image in the small corner box of her laptop screen, taking in the small dark circles appearing under her eyes, her messy hair and her tired eyes. She definitely didn't feel like a sight for sore eyes.

"If you think I'm a sight for sore eyes now, wait until I get a full eight hours of sleep."

"You're still at work?" He sits up in his bed. He's dressed in only a pair of sweatpants.

"You know this is technically my first home," she chuckles, setting the laptop down in front of her in order to grab the second case file, "the one I pay the bills at is technically my second."

Jay chuckles; he's always the one to find her jokes funny whether they actually are or not. It's nice. And she feels her heart actually swoon because of it. What is happening to her?

"What time do you think you'll be getting off?"

Erin glances down at the time on her laptop, "I'll probably aim for going home in the next hour or two. I'll just bring the rest of my case notes home with me and do a little before bed."

"Why do you have so much work?"

"…because I have multiple cases. Despite what television shows you, lawyers don't just have one case at a time. We have multiple ones and each of them deserves my focus and hard work."

"You're really passionate about this, aren't you?"

"Yeah," her voice lowers as she considers her next words, "I want to help people. I want to defend people who have been victimized because of their class, race, gender, sexual orientation, religion and other discriminatory factors that people hold against others."

There's a look in his eye, one that she hasn't seen from him before. That look is directed at her, it's on his face because of her. He pulls his laptop closer, back resting against the fluffed up pillow behind him and then he speaks, breaking the silence in his bedroom and her office, "You're amazing, do you know that?"

"I don't do this for the compliments."

"I know, but it doesn't mean I'll stop giving them."

The look on his face is now reflected onto hers. She sports the same expression and now she understands the meaning behind it. It's a feeling, one she's not comfortable with defining just yet for how she feels about her boyfriend. And because of that feeling, she's willing to fight for this, despite their reputation, his obsessive fans, her father, Rixton and everything else that has or will come between them. She reaches towards her laptop screen, trailing her fingers along the side of the screen as if she can reach through the screen and caressing along the side of his face.

"Erin…"

Her eyes avert from Jay to Atwater, poking his head inside of her office, one of his hands purposely held behind his back. She withdraws her hand away from the screen, feeling a little embarrassed at being caught in such a vulnerable position, "Atwater," she clears her throat, "I'm so sorry for keeping you guys waiting. I swear I'll be ready to leave in like an hour."

"Don't worry about it," he brushes it off, walking into her office, "I actually came in here because I got you some food."

Erin notices the bag in his hand; she reads the restaurant label across the plastic and smiles –it's Thai food. She's speechless for only a second, a second that felt like a lifetime. Jay is smirking, obviously watching her as she continually opens and closes her mouth in an attempt to say the appropriate words. Her raspy voice comes out breathless, as if she had just finished working out and was trying to collect her breath, "You didn't have-"

"I know I didn't have to, I wanted to," he moves to sit the bag of food near her tablet, "Despite what you may think, you aren't that great of a liar. And did you forget that we had lunch together, I know you didn't have a big lunch."

She reaches for the bag, pulling it onto her lap, "You know me so well."

"That's what friends are for," he's not one for getting sentimental, so he brushes off his and her comment once again, "and since you don't always put yourself first, someone has to. I'll let you eat and then Dawson is going to bring the car around. You need sleep."

"Thanks dad," she rolled her eyes.

"Funny." He leaves her office.

With the bag on her lap and Jay watching her, she eagerly opens it up, wondering if he had gotten her one of her favorite dishes: chicken pad Thai, tom yum soup and a side of steamed vegetables. Each item was in the bag, carefully sealed to preserve the heat and flavor.

"That was nice of him."

Erin had almost forgotten she wasn't alone. Food had a way of distracting her, especially when she was hungry. She pulled the container of pad Thai out of the bag and popped the lid open, "Yeah, my guys are the best."

"I'm starting to see that," he whispers, watching her as she set up her dinner around her on the floor, "I'm glad that you have people looking out for you."

"It's nice to have a few people in your corner. It's nothing in comparison to your thousands of fans, but it gets me through the day."

"I don't care about the number of fans I have."

Despite her full mouth, she responds, "You should; they're one of the reasons you're successful. You shouldn't discredit them."

Jay's posture straightens; he's no longer leaning against his pillow, "I do appreciate them for that; I just find it hard to care about them when they're talking bad about you."

She swallows another bite, forcing it down after not chewing it completely, "You saw those posts huh?" She's kind of embarrassed about it. His fans said some awful things about her.

"Yeah, and I saw your brother's post too."

"He wasn't talking about you," her comment was hurried; she didn't want him to think for another second that it was directed at him.

"I know and I'm not mad. I agree with everything he said."

"I do too."

Erin sets her pad Thai to the side and carefully holds her small container of soup, peeling the lid back slowly to ensure she didn't spill any on her. Jay watches, holding back his next statement until she finishes. He doesn't want to distract her from the task at hand. Once she blows the soup on the spoon and eats it, he replies, "I love my fans, Er, don't get me wrong, it's just if my fans can't be happy because I'm happy in my new relationship, then they aren't my true fans."

"I'm about to play devil's advocate here," she clears her throat after the hot soup burns its way down, "not all, but look at where your devoted fans are coming from. Some people invest themselves in celebrities. You and Rixton prided yourselves on being the single bachelors of the group, the hot, bad boys who took girls to fancy hotel rooms to sleep with them. You serenaded fans. You blew your money on any and everything. You got in legal trouble multiple times. You're rich, you wear leather and you have sleeve tats, Jay, that's hot and these girls love that and if you're single it makes being the woman to make you want to settle down more realistic. A lot of women think they're the girl that's going to change the boy and once you got off the market, that fantasy became less realistic. And now," she pauses to blow her soup and take another bite, "and now rumors come out that the girl who is not only changing you, but coming between you and your best friend, your bandmate, makes me the enemy. I took you and I'm coming in between you and Rixton. Your fans connect to you and your music, I threaten that and the anger they direct towards me is just a defense mechanism. They're protective of you, Jay."

"So, are you saying I should just let it go?"

"I'm saying to just cut them some slack," she shrugs, and reaches her spoon over to scoop up a piece of broccoli, "I'll get used to it eventually."

"You shouldn't have to though."

"And I appreciate you for that, but it's not going to stop and I don't want your career to suffer because of it. You have that natural protective instinct for the people you lo-" she catches herself and redirects her statement, "for the people you care about and I like that about you, but just try to remind yourself where they're coming from. And remember that while the comments are a little harsh now, they'll die down once the public gets used to us, but if you let it get to you and it continues to drive a wedge between you guys, they'll get worse and I'll probably end up moving to a hut in Taiwan in order to get away." He chuckles at the end of her remark.

His head tilts back as he releases another sigh, "Have I told you that you're amazing?"

She chuckles with a mouth full of food, "…not in the last ten minutes."

"I'm slacking off then," he grips the screen of his laptop and pulls it forward, adjusting the screen as he lays back, "I can't wait to see you again…two weeks and counting."

"June is coming quicker than I expected," she realized, shutting the containers of her food the second her stomach is full, "My dad's birthday is early next month." She carefully sets her leftover food back inside of the carryout bag and ties it together to keep it all in place.

"Anything special planned?"

Erin shrugs, "That's my mom's area, but I think my dad wants something a little more private this year. His last birthday my mom threw him this surprise party back in our house in Chicago, all of his cop buddies were there and it was like a little reunion."

"Sounds like fun."

"Yeah, he really liked it. I've never seen my dad so happy," a ghost of a smile crosses her lips as she thinks back to last year, "my dad is unable to travel this year so she's going to have something small at home, family and close friends and absolutely no work," Erin suddenly sits up straighter, uncrossing her legs as a thought crosses her mind, "Oh, maybe you can help me with something."

"Sure, what's up?" His hand props up his face as he lies on his side, laptop sitting beside him on his unmade bed.

"You're a guy who can buy whatever he wants whenever he wants it."

"I guess you can say that."

"What do you buy for someone like that?" She bites down onto her bottom lip, "What could I possibly get for a man who has everything?"

"Did you ask him?"

She rolls her eyes, "He's difficult. He says he has everything he already wants."

"Well there you go…"

"I still want to get him something though."

"Then get him something that reminds you of him; he won't be disappointed because he already told you that he has everything he could absolutely want."

Erin brings her thumb up to scratch her chin in thought, focusing her mind on possible gift ideas. And once again, just like earlier today, nothing comes to mind. She's close to giving up, sighing in absolute frustration, "Now I'm back where I started. I don't know what to get him."

"…maybe something personal, something that can't be bought,"

"Like what?" She shoves a strand of her hair behind her ear.

"What does your dad like?"

"How much time do you have?"

"…as much time as you need."

She sighed, relaxing her shoulders and swallowed, fully appreciating this man in front of her, willing to stay up and patiently assist her in choosing a present for a man who didn't like him. Maybe if her father knew just how much effort Jay is putting into helping her decide a gift for him, he'll have a change of heart. It's possible. Her dad can be a reasonable guy…sometimes. Hopefully, a change of heart isn't too much to ask.


	15. In Too Deep

It's the first week of June; it's the week that Jay's supposed to fly down. It's the day before he's supposed to pay a visit and Erin finds herself grateful that she purposefully set it up that way. He had this week off, including today, but she managed to convince him to fly in tomorrow. She blamed work for it. She mentioned a nonexistent court date, a family brunch and a conference call in order to get him to come tomorrow. She lied. It pained her to do so but it felt necessary because of today, because of today's date and its significance. This day comes once a year and every year Erin finds herself suffering through it. She finds herself getting by, going through the motions and doing absolutely everything necessary to numb herself. Her methods of coping: work, alcohol, binge eating and sleep. It wasn't healthy but it was something.

And yet today, this year, none of that seemed to work.

Everyone who knows the significance of today walks on pins and needles around her. Her family, her friends and her guards know that today is the second hardest day of the year for her, the first being the anniversary of Nadia's death in April –the day before her own birthday.

Her normal routine of staying busy today seemed to be pointless. It wasn't working. Nothing was working. She hated meetings but the one that was scheduled today she didn't mind going to because it would serve as a distraction. It was cancelled. She couldn't focus on her case notes and she ended up reading the same sentence over and over again, not comprehending anything she wrote. She met with a client and had to reschedule when she realized that everything he said to her went in one ear and out of the other. Work wasn't cutting it like it normally does.

Erin's cell phone rested on the corner of her desk on silent. She watched it ring, Dr. Charles name lighting up the screen as he called her for the fifth time that day. It was only a little after four in the afternoon. And eventually his call goes to voicemail along with the many calls before him. Annie had called her once or twice, leaving a voicemail and two text messages. Dr. Charles had called her five times and each time he left a professional voicemail reaching out and reminding her that he's here if she wants to talk. She doesn't. Not today. Not about _her_. Justin had called her at least ten times, pleading for her to pick up and going so far as to bribe her to do so. It didn't work. Once again, she didn't want to talk. Not today, and especially, not about _her_. Both of her parents had called at separate times this morning; her dad leaving a voicemail telling her his schedule to imply the times he was available to talk. She had no intention of taking him up on the offer. She never did. Not on this day. And her mother, her mother was the only one to leave voicemails about subject matter completely unrelated to her sour mood. It was as if her mother didn't know. But, she did. Camille didn't forget. She just knows her daughter, knows she wouldn't want to talk about it. She never wanted to talk about it. And because of that, Camille talked about absolutely everything else in the time allotted in voice messages. And then there was Kelly; he called her the most today, he left the most voicemails and he sent the most text messages. It was normal though. He did this every year. And she expected it because unlike Annie, her brother and her parents, Kelly knew her too. He lost her too. They weren't as close but because of Erin, he was starting to get to know her, to see the potential that she saw in her.

Today was the day that everyone wished would go by in a blur. Her own guards walked on eggshells around her, fearing that one wrong move or word would send her to tears, on a rant or a downward spiral. Being around her for most of the day, none of them wanted to bring her up. It was a silent agreement they made amongst themselves. It was an unspoken promise. One she greatly appreciated.

Erin's in jeans today; jeans and a t-shirt. It's obvious she's not in a mood to work. Normally her attire is business casual or professional. Today, she didn't care. Her hair was curtained around most of her face as she made her way through the cubicles, eyes zeroed in on her destination –the elevators. No one dare approach her. No one knew what was wrong but they're perceptive, they know that on this day, she is to not be bothered. She shoves her finger against the up button of the elevator, tapping her foot impatiently as she waited. The flats she's wearing don't match the rest of her outfit but this morning as she got dressed, she honestly couldn't have cared less.

The elevator doors opened and she didn't even wait for people to get out before she stepped in. A few side glances and the rolling of some eyes was all noticed but ignored by her. She pressed the eleventh button and took a step back, moving out of the way for people to exit the elevator. She attempted to do as much work as possible today but it seems as if nothing had gotten done. Erin had been in the office since eight this morning and it'll be five in the afternoon in less than an hour and nothing on her to do list today had been completed. It was a waste of time to come in. And while normally she would be the last one to leave, she found herself needing to get out sooner. She felt claustrophobic. She felt confined and restricted. She needed some fresh air, she needed some space and she knew she wouldn't be able to get it here.

Finally the doors opened and she arrived to the floor she had felt like she'd been waiting forever to reach. Erin stepped out and hesitated, hearing the elevator doors close behind her. She glanced around, spotting Peter's secretary and without wasting a second, without thinking too much about it, she walked past her, hearing the woman repeatedly call out her name as she walked into her boss's office without knocking, "Mr. Mills." The door shuts behind her.

He looks up from his laptop, a wide grin crossing his face before slightly faltering at the look of her own forced smile, "Hi Erin is everything alright?"

"Would you mind if I took the rest of the day off?"

This piques his interest. Peter sits up straight and closes his laptop, "It's almost five, you don't want to just finish out the day," he waves for her to take a seat in one of the chairs on the other side of his desk, "What's the problem?"

"I really," she hears her voice crack so she stops talking to take a moment to collect herself; she's not going to cry, she's not going to cry, "I really don't want to talk about it."

"That's going to be a problem then. If you want to go home, I need to know why."

He isn't making it easy for her. And she can't talk about it. Not today. She just can't.

Erin finally sits in the chair he offered and the hair that curtained her face at one moment is pushed behind her ear. No makeup. Tired eyes. Hair undone. Peter could obviously tell something was wrong but he wanted to hear it from her himself. She normally liked her boss, sometimes she grew frustrated and irritated with him, but today, she positively thought she despised him. She sits up straighter, trying to mask a feeling on her face that she obviously didn't feel, "It's just," her voice wavers, "I…I uh," she's normally good with her words in an official capacity, "I can't focus," a tear slips from her eye and trickles down her cheek, "I…I normally can on today of all days, but," she sucks in a large breath of air in an effort to cease herself from crying; it doesn't work, "for some reason I can't today. I can't work today. I…I just can't."

The tears are falling more frequently now, in a rush and at an unprecedented rate. It makes him uncomfortable. His shoulders stiffen and he's actually looking around his desk for a box of tissues, making a mental note to purchase some after realizing that he doesn't have any. He doesn't know what to do. At this point her hands are covering her face and she's sobbing into them, heaving every once in a while in an effort to stop her cries but they don't work. He looks over to his secretary, hoping she looks up so he can wave for her to come and comfort the woman, but his secretary is focused on her laptop, oblivious to the scene in his office.

Peter clears his throat; his Adam's apple bobs as he waits for her to look up. When she doesn't, he clears it again and speaks up, "Erin," she sniffles and drops her hands into her lap, "go home and get some rest. I know you're off tomorrow so enjoy the rest of the day and tomorrow. I'm pretty sure we'll survive without you for a day or two."

The smile that crosses her face doesn't meet her eyes. She doesn't think any smile that comes across her face will meet her eyes today. It's one of the two days of the year that paralyzes her. That draws her back years ago when everything was okay. She feels stuck. She feels like there's no way out, she's in too deep in her grief and it's been years since that unspeakable day. Normally with the passage of time, her grief is supposed to get better, but when that grief is mixed with guilt it creates an unfathomable feeling that feels impossible to get rid of.

Erin doesn't say anything. Instead, she gives him the slight nod of her head and rises to her feet. The best thing she can give him is a quick exit from his office. His shoulders only relax the second she's gone and his door is shut. She hurries along and gives his secretary a wave of the hand, one the woman doesn't even notice since she's still focused in on her laptop. Erin reaches the elevators again, continually hitting the down button until the elevator came. This time no one was on it and she had the benefit of collecting herself, her emotions and her thoughts in the privacy of the box. By the time the doors reopen on the floor below, she had managed to wipe away most of her tears, only forgetting about two as they started to slowly trail down her face.

Like she did before, she maneuvers through the cubicles, waving offhandedly to some interns who called out a greeting. They were new; they didn't know like everyone else did on the floor to leave her alone today and that day in April –the day Nadia was killed. That day in April and today were too emotionally jam-packed that she couldn't deal with people and because of that she tended to do things that didn't require communication and face-to-face contact. Erin approaches her office, eyes focused down on the ground. She could feel everyone's eyes on her, or maybe on her office, she didn't exactly know, but she heard her secretary's breath hitch as if she wanted to say something, remind her of something in her schedule maybe but choosing against it when the large calendar on her desk reminds her of the date. Her secretary circles it in red for a reason. Erin really needed to get out of here. She hated the looks of pity she was receiving and they didn't even know why, they didn't know the significance of today's date.

She just needed to get in her office, pack up her briefcase and get out of here as soon as possible. Her guards were already waiting in the lobby of the floor, knowing she'll text them when she's ready to leave. It will be soon she told them a few minutes before deciding to talk to her boss; she gave them a time range of five to ten minutes. Hopefully she stuck to that.

Erin opens her office door and is surprised by the sight before her. She sees Jay; one second he's sitting on the couch and the next he's quickly hoping to his feet. His face appears embarrassed as if he were caught doing something he shouldn't be doing. Near his feet rest a suitcase sitting on its wheels. His hand brushes over the handle, giving it a tug and wheeling it closer as he approaches her. The flush of embarrassment and the smile once on his face slowly disappeared when he registered her expression. Even the fake smile on her own face couldn't hide her true emotions. She was sad. She was a little angry.

Thankfully he doesn't say anything. It's possible her guys warned him but she doesn't particularly care to find out. She's grateful for whatever the reason is that doesn't have him questioning the tears trickling down her face. He steps in closer and she's pretty sure everyone on the tenth floor of the law firm is watching, invading what's supposed to be a private moment as his hand reaches up to cup her face, brushing away one of her tears with the pad of his thumb.

He still doesn't say anything. Thank you, Jay.

It feels like he can read her mind because he smiles and leans forward to brush his lips across her forehead. She steps back afterwards, a ghost of a smile on her own lips, one that fills a little more natural than the other smiles she forced today. She moves around him, taking a glance out into the workspace to catch everyone staring. Most of them, if not all, jump in surprise when she looks and embarrassingly and somewhat frighteningly turns away to resume their work. She makes her way over to her desk, opening her briefcase to slide her laptop, charger, notebook and a few casefiles inside. Since she didn't get any work done today, maybe she'll be able to tomorrow. She just needed to get out of here.

Her phone rings again; it's on silent so she doesn't hear but she notices it lighten up when Kelly's name crosses the screen. He's worried and she should answer but her body paralyzes. It won't let her reach out and swipe her thumb across the screen. Jay reads the name too and looks over at her, an unknown amount of questions flood his mind and becomes clear across his face which lets her know that her guards didn't fill him in. He knows nothing.

Erin shuts her briefcase and clasps it shut. Before she has a chance to pull the strap over her shoulder, Jay is picking it up, choosing to carry it along with his suitcase. Her guards are now outside of her office door, everyone except Dawson who was mostly gone to get the car. Roman holds the door open for her as she exits and she gives him a smile of appreciation. She's unable to say her thanks out of fear that she'll break down just as she did in Peter's office.

Her guards suddenly surround her which is something they normally do on rare occasions. Today is one of those occasions. Atwater takes a protective stance in front of her. Roman and Sorensen are to the left and right of her. Her back is left clear and the opportunity to approach arises when a new intern walks up, calling out her name, "Erin, I have the file you wanted."

"Hey man, step back," it's Atwater who gives the warning. And the intern is scared. Her guards came to work with her but they never interfered. Some wouldn't even notice them. Some rarely even heard their voices. Her guards knew to stay out of her way at work and they knew that people would regularly approach her and come to her office if needed. They never intervened, unless it was today. And Atwater's tall and muscular physique was intimidating to the young college-age intern who had just started his first day a week ago.

Erin moves around Atwater, laying a hand against his chest to push him back, reassuring him with her eyes that it's okay, she's fine. And without having to say a word, she turns to the intern and smiles, taking a hold of the file and giving him a nod of appreciation. He's flustered, scratching the back of his ear as he backs away.

"I'll put that in here," Jay offers, slipping the file from her hold.

Her guards surround her again; this time Roman stands at an angle to protect her side and her back. No one else will be approaching her today.

In her mind, she finds herself retracting all the bad things she's ever said to Nadia, all the times she made excuses for hanging out, all the moments she came close to giving up on her and all the times she felt like the woman was a burden. So many things she wanted to take back that she couldn't. So many things she wanted to change that were out of her control. She regretted few things in life but one of her biggest regrets was not having a funeral for her dear friend. Nadia had no family, no friends outside of she and Kelly, and yet after her death, her family hid Erin's link to the woman from the media. Her mother told her it wouldn't look good for the vice president's daughter to be best friends with a former prostitute and drug addict. She was murdered and for the longest time Erin felt like it was her fault, even to this day she finds herself placing the blame on herself. And even with the guilt that continues to fester inside of her, she didn't have a funeral for her friend. She had the money. She had the time. There was no reason for Nadia not to have a funeral yet one wasn't planned. She never got to say goodbye.

Her parents took that opportunity away from her. It was all to keep their public image intact.

The guilt eats her up inside. She blamed herself for years. She went downhill for years. Now she's managed to live each day with the guilt eating her up; it only manifests in this form two days out of the year –Nadia's birthday and the anniversary of her death.

At some point they climb into the car and someone, she doesn't know who, buckled her in. She had been a walking zombie, here physically but mentally someplace else. She'll be back to normal tomorrow. That's how it always is.

Her phone rings. She didn't even remember picking it up, but when it's stretched out towards her, held up in Jay's hand; she realizes just how grateful she is for him. She takes it from him and sends it straight to voicemail at the sight of Kelly's name flashing across the screen.

It rings again. And she moves to send it to voicemail again when Atwater covers her hand with his, "Maybe you should answer it. It's Severide, right?" She nods, "Yeah, you should get that."

It doesn't take much convincing. She swipes across the screen and holds the phone up to her ear and waits. She says nothing. She just breathes lightly into the phone waiting for him to speak up, "Do you need me to fly down there?" He's trying to make her talk. She's afraid of how her voice will sound, but he doesn't let up, he keeps pushing, "Erin, I'm booking a flight."

"No," her voice comes out strangled. It causes everyone in the car –minus Dawson since he's driving- to glance over at her.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Everyone tries to tune out her personal conversation; they didn't want to invade on her privacy. She's answering his questions in a whisper because of it; she didn't want them eavesdropping either. This was already a sore subject for her to discuss in general and now that Kelly is trying to talk to her in front of her boyfriend and her guards, she felt vulnerable.

"Are you alone?"

"No."

"Good." Kelly takes in a dramatic sigh, loosening the tie wrapped around his collar, "I know today is hard. It's hard for me too but you shouldn't be alone. You want to talk about her?"

"No."

He sighs again, "Do you mind if I do?"

She doesn't answer right away. It's true that Erin isn't ready to personally speak about her but it wouldn't be fair for her to stop him, especially since he knew her too. She may have discovered the body but he was right there with her. So even if she didn't want the topic of Nadia to be discussed in general, she wasn't selfish, and that's the sole reason why she answered, "No."

"She would have been 25 this year," he poses it in question form and when she doesn't correct him he knows he's correct, "it's hard to believe it was six years ago, the end of our junior year of undergrad when everything changed." This was hard for her to hear yet she listened nonetheless, "I visited him a few days ago." This piques her interest and she waits for him to continue, "I know you're probably wondering why but I needed some type of closure and I tried to get it that way. It didn't work though. It was a waste of time. He didn't feel any sympathy."

"I don't want to hear this," she tries to whisper it but the waver of her voice prevents it.

"I know I'm sorry," Kelly swallows roughly, "I know you prefer to just get through the day without doing much and I'm just grateful you picked up and you're not alone. I'll let you go but please, _please_ , don't hesitate to call me if you need someone to talk to, okay?"

"Okay…"

"I love you, Er."

She sniffs, "I love you too." The call ends. And a part of her does actually feel better.

Erin tucks her phone into her pocket. She straightens her posture and turns her body to stare out of the window to watch the monuments, the people and other cars pass by.

Jay watches her; he's worried. He had flown in a day earlier than scheduled and she didn't seem surprised, she didn't even ask him about it. He was supposed to come in tomorrow afternoon and she was going to pick him up from the airport, but if he was being honest, he couldn't wait to see her, so he bumped his flight up a day and from the airport caught a taxi straight to her job. It's why his suitcase is currently in the trunk of the car.

He was worried and he had a feeling that if he didn't fly in a day earlier he wouldn't have known about this day, this mood that overcomes her.

Halstead unbuckled his seatbelt, earning a raised brow from Roman and Atwater as he slid across the seat to flush his side up against hers. He wraps his arm around her shoulder and he smiles when she leans back, resting her back against his chest. She wasn't pushing him away –that's a good sign. His lips kiss the temple of her head, holding pressure down and inhaling the scent of her that draws him to her every time she's in his presence. They stay like this at least until the car is parked in front of her building. She doesn't even wait for her guards. She unbuckles her seat belt, takes Jay's hand and pulls him out of the vehicle. It's only when he slides his hand out of hers to quickly grab her briefcase and his suitcase out of the trunk that she decides to wait for her guys to catch up.

Erin holds her head down, purposefully pushing her hair around to curtain her face. It blocks her eyes and her dried tear-stained cheeks. She follows her guards into the building and up the elevator and as protocol would have it, she remains in the hallway with Jay and Dawson as her other three guards search her high-rise. She stands, feet firmly planted on the ground and rocks forwards and backwards with her arms wrapped around her waist. Jay stands beside her, holding the handle of his suitcase and the strap of her briefcase. She waits and waits for what felt like eternity. And the only difference this time differs from the times before is Dawson approaching her, pulling her into his embrace to hold and hug her as tight as possible. Erin sniffs, it's a noise they haven't heard too often as she buries her face into the crook of his neck, calming her racing heart each time his hand rubs circles into her back, "I got you."

Jay feels like an outsider looking in. He watches just how much her guard cares for her, holding her as if she were family, rocking her as he rubs soothing circles into her back. He's whispering to her, the words are too low for Jay to hear but just looking at them, he feels like a very obvious outsider being the only one of the group not privy to what's going on, to the significance of today's date. Eventually the moment is over when her guards come out and give the all clear. It's given just as the elevator dings, signaling the doors will open soon.

Halstead has never seen her guards move so fast. He sees Dawson practically shove Erin into his arms, step in front of them and draws his weapon just as Atwater, Sorensen and Roman take their own stands around the elevator. Jay's eyes are wide as he hears orders shouted towards them, for them to step back, to go inside but neither of them move. Erin doesn't appear to be worried. Maybe this wasn't the first time they've reacted like this.

When the doors open, revealing Erin's brother and his own guards surrounding him at the sight of four weapons being aimed in his direction, each of Erin's guards visibly relax. Atwater holsters his gun and waves for Justin to step out of the elevator, "We weren't expecting you."

"This was a last minute decision," he said, "I just left the gym and this was on the way home."

Justin made his way through the four men before becoming face to face with his sister, "Oh Erin…" it comes out in the hint of a whisper after inspecting her from head to toe. He grabs her upper arms and doesn't even bother to wait for her to initiate a hug before he's pulling her in.

"I'm fine," she attempts to reassure him.

"You don't have to lie to me," he chuckled; his hand cradles the back of her head as he holds her close, "I'm the last one you need to lie to."

Erin glances over his shoulder, watching every man stationed in the hallway looking at her, waiting for her to break, but she knew herself, she knew she wasn't. She also knew she needed to get away from their prying eyes, "Come on inside," she says to the two men, taking the handle of Jay's suitcase away from him, "I'll show you where you'll be staying."

To be honest he just assumed he would be staying in the master bedroom with her, but when she walked past it, walked through the living room and down a hallway, he realized that was just wishful thinking. She led him to one of the closed doors and waved for him to enter, "I hope this room is good enough," she sounds a bit embarrassed. Her brother waited in the living room for her to return as she gave Jay a brief run through of everything, "You can help yourself to anything in my home."

"Thank you."

For a split second they make eye contact. She watches his hand nervously scratch the back of his ear as he rocked forwards and backwards on the heel of his feet. She smiled. His nervous habit was cute. Erin bowed her head and slowly turned to walk away, only stopping the second Jay reaches forward and catches her arm, "Er, wait a second," he lets her go when he feels her tense up, "Talk to me."

"…not now," she departs from the guestroom.

Erin walks with a purpose, making her way back to the living room, grabbing her brother's arm and ignoring his complaint as she pulled him into her room, shutting the door quietly behind her, "I know what you're doing," she whispers; she didn't want her company to overhear.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"I know where your gym is and my home is definitely not on the way," she steps away from him, crossing her arms over her chest defensively, "You didn't need to check in on me."

"You weren't answering my phone calls. I got worried. I _know_ how hard this day is."

"I'm _fine_ ," she emphasizes, "I'm _fine_! Why won't you people believe me?"

Justin rolls his eyes in mockery, "I don't know, maybe it's because people who are fine don't shut down the same day every year. People who are fine don't leave work in tears, refuse to answer phone calls and brush off everyone's attempts to talk about her."

"Why would you want to talk about her? You've never met her."

"I would have liked to know about her though. She mattered to you. And that means she mattered to me," his words are honest; they plead with her to understand.

"I really am fine Justin."

"Well can you call your parents and tell them that?" they're always her parents when they're being difficult; she rolls her eyes at that annunciation like she always does, "They're worried about you. You haven't been answering their calls either."

"They're the last people who I want to talk to on today of all days."

"You can't hold a grudge."

"Watch me," she moves past her brother and goes to her nightstand to grab her car keys, "You know I love them and I don't think it's too much to ask for them to leave me alone two days out of the whole year. I just find it surprising that the two people who wanted me to leave her alone, to not bother myself with trying to help her want me to talk about her to them. These are the same two people who watched me suffer after her death but instead of focusing on my grief, they did everything in their power to ensure that Nadia could not be traced back to me, that Yates could not be traced back to me, to show the country that the woman who died was not the friend of Voight's daughter, not a girl who tried to change her life around but was just a former prostitute and addict that was murdered. These are the same two people who convinced me not to have a funeral because if it came out that I knew her, it could ruin dad's plans for presidency and my future political plans. I don't even want to be a politician…not anymore."

Justin couldn't find any words to say. He wanted to help take away the pain but he didn't know how. He was 24; she was his big sister. He was used to seeing her so strong, in control and put together. When she went through her rebellious phase, he was too caught up in himself to really pay attention. Most of what he knew was told to him after that period of her life had ended. All he could do in this moment was watch as she left her room, called for her boyfriend and tossed him her car keys. Jay put up no argument; he simply looked past her shoulder to make eye contact with him and when Justin gave him a slight nod, he reached for her hand and led her out the door. Her guards were ready to go; they were always ready to go at the drop of a dime, but right now, Erin wanted to be alone with her boyfriend, "We're going on a drive," she holds up a hand to halt their movement, "Don't follow us."

And just as Erin goes to press the elevator button, Atwater catches Jay's arm just as he caught Erin's arm a few minutes ago, "I'm warning you, Halstead. Watch her," his words are low but threatening, "If anything happens to her, I'll be the least of your worries. You'll have one of the most powerful men in the world after you."

"I got her," Jay tugs his arm from the man's hold and moves to catch up with his girlfriend as she holds the elevator doors open for him.

As the doors start to close, cutting off all sight of her guards, Jay reaches over and intertwines his hand with hers, "I got you," he repeats the words he said to Atwater to her. She squeezes his hand, unable to say the words and choosing to use an action to practically tell him the same thing.

It's unsurprising as they walk to her parked car that the paparazzi are here. He's been spotted at the airport hours ago, he's been seen entering and leaving her place of work and then he was observed going into her high-rise. The paparazzi made a pretty accurate guess in assuming that since he went in he'll have to come out. Today isn't the day though; his patience is slim to none. He feels Erin pull him closer, practically tucking herself into his chest, his arm around her shoulders holding her close. She's gripping the leather jacket he's wearing, trying to hide her face from the bright flashes as the paparazzi shouts a long list of questions broaching the topic of the rumors about his band breaking up, the release date on his next album –which they don't know but he hasn't even started working on yet-, his relationship with Rixton, her relationship with Rixton, how he gets along with Justin and her parents, whether or not he has any comments regarding statements made by his fans and so many other questions that could have honestly waited to be asked. His arm remains around her shoulders but he's using his hand to press her face against his chest while the other arm waves for the paparazzi to back up.

"Give us some room!" He shouts over the loud, insistent questioning of the photographers, "Back up!" Jay continues to wave for them to step away as they make their way down the sidewalk, "I said back the fuck up!"

Erin's face could feel the vibration of his chest when he yelled. And she normally would have been able to handle this, to show it not getting to her, but today wasn't her day. His legs are moving fast, she's trying to keep up, but she can still see through the curtain of her hair, the flashing of cameras, "I swear if you guys don't back up…" he lets his threat go unfinished when the paparazzi do in fact heed his warning.

Finally reaching her car, he unlocks the doors and helps her inside before jogging around to the driver's seat. The paparazzi stand by, recording and capturing photos of his haste to get away. Her windows are tinted; he couldn't have been more grateful for something that didn't once seem so important. The couple buckles themselves in and he starts the car, turning to her seconds after turning the radio to the lowest volume, "I'm sorry for that."

"Now you know that's not your fault," a smirk graces her lips, "Also thanks for that back there. I appreciate you looking out for me."

He reaches across the arm rest and takes her hand in his, "…anytime. And that's a promise." A silence falls between them, both of them aware but indifferent about the paparazzi outside, continually shouting questions as if they'll answer. Jay lifts her hand and brushes his lips across her knuckles, "Okay Er, where do you want to go?"

She suddenly remembers their hasty exit. She didn't have a destination in mind. She turns forward in her seat and leaves her hand intertwined with his as she answers, "Just drive."

Jay turns to the screen in her car, tapping out an address that looks familiar to her, before putting the car in drive and pulling out of the parking spot. She's seen that address before but since she doesn't drive too often it's hard for her to remember exactly what that place is. All she can do is smile, knowing that wherever it is, it must have some type of significance to their relationship.

During the ride Jay doesn't know what to say to help, he doesn't even know how to help or the reason she needs help. The ride is quiet. No music is playing. No one is talking. Just silence. A long and stretched out silence. Even though he's unsure, it doesn't stop him from reaching over to grasp her hand where it rests in her lap. He squeezes softly to reassure her while his eyes remain on the road. With the sun down and rush hour slowly coming to an end, it doesn't take long for them to reach their destination. And when Erin notices the sign to the right of her –Great Falls Park- she smiles; it's sort of like their spot.

As they approach the gate, stopping by the entrance to pay the security guard for access, Erin grins when she recognizes him. He gives her a curt nod before taking the money from Jay, "I should give you guys a heads up. The park closes in half an hour."

"Do you think we can stay for an hour?"

"I'm trying to get home."

Jay reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his wallet, "I'll give you fifty bucks."

It doesn't take long for the guy to make a decision, "One hour, that's all. You have yourself a deal," he takes the cash and steps away to walk back inside of the security booth to raise the access bar. The car drives along through the empty parking lot and what takes Erin by surprise is not the lack of people and cars or even the beautiful sunset, it's the fact that Jay is driving off the pavement of the parking lot and into the grass.

She sits up straighter, "This is off limits."

"I don't care," he places the car in park, "I'm a bad boy, remember? I break the rules, and sometimes the law too."

Erin nods and laughs at his remark. She leans her head back against the headrest and turns it slowly to face him. And when he smiles at her, she simply cannot help the way her stomach drops. He's adorable. Maybe that's not the right adjective to describe him but for the first time today, in years, she felt happy, almost giddy inside.

"Alright," he turns off the engine and unbuckles his seatbelt, "care for a walk?"

"It's dark outside."

His brow rises, "If you're afraid, I'll protect you."

"I can protect myself," she unbuckles her seat and opens her door, stepping out after giving him a wink, "I was just pointing out the obvious."

It may have been dark, but it wasn't too dark. The falling sun still provided a ghost of light in combination with the one or two streetlights scattered around the park. He hops out next and since they're the only ones here, he doesn't bother locking her car door. Jay walks around the car and makes a grab for Erin's hand; she doesn't mind as his fingers intertwine with hers, "What made you take us here?"

They walk towards the pathway, hands intertwined and swinging back and forth.

"I figured it's peaceful, it's quiet and it's the place where I learned about you the most."

He pulls her to a stop. The wind whips through her hair and he uses his free hand to attempt to push a strand behind her ear. It was a fruitless effort because the wind knocked it right back into her face. Their walk has stopped; they hadn't even made it to the pavement yet. One hand remains in her hold and his other hand comes up to caress the side of her face, "Talk to me."

She smiles and takes a step out of his hold, "I knew there had to be an ulterior motive."

"I'm worried about you."

"I can take-"

"…care of yourself, I know, you've said that once or twice."

Erin takes advantage of the silence and the solitude to look up at him, to look into his eyes, to take him…to really take all of him in. She steps forward, going back into his hold and her hands gather around his waist, linking behind his back as she peers up at him, "I'm sorry."

She watches his expression change, reading it for all its worth and smiling kindly when a puzzled appearance takes form, "For what?"

"I just remembered," her chest was now flushed against his, tightening her grip around his waist, "I didn't pick you up from the airport. With everything going on, I forgot."

"Technically, you didn't."

Her grip loosened, "What do you mean?"

"I was actually supposed to fly in tomorrow, but I," he stumbles over his words, finding himself a little embarrassed at what he's about to reveal, "I uh, I kind of missed you."

"You flew in early to see me?"

"Yeah," he bashfully scratches behind his neck, looking around at absolutely everything but her.

And suddenly she felt horrible again. The want to apologize rising once more as it did before.

"I'm such a horrible girlfriend," she releases him and begins walking again, only this time in the direction of her parked car; he moves to keep up, "I've been so consumed with my own feelings, I hadn't been thinking about you and how sweet you are."

"You told me to come in tomorrow for a reason," he replies, catching up and reaching for her arm to pull her to a stop, "I told you the days I was free and you insisted on tomorrow's date, does that have anything to do with what has you upset today?"

"I guess you could say that."

He was prying or at least attempting to. She was being evasive, pulling her arm out of his hold in order to continue her walk towards the car. They didn't even make it to the pathway before she changed directions and headed back towards the car. There's swiftness in her steps. She walks as if she could get away, as if they aren't in the middle of a park, as if they didn't come in together and won't be leaving the same. He watches her go and he fully expects her to get back into the car with the sole intent of leaving, but she doesn't. Instead she walks towards the back of it and hops on to take a seat on the trunk, her legs draping over and dangling as he now moves to approach, "What is it about today?" His voice is gentle. He doesn't want to demand an answer that she may not be ready and willing to give.

"It's Nadia's birthday."

His breath hitches in his throat the second he hears the answer. He doesn't know what happened to her, he doesn't even truly know the extent to their relationship but based on past conversations, he's made assumptions about it. He doesn't respond right away. Instead he hops onto the trunk and sits beside her, leaving a fine line of space between the two. Romance isn't going to be his method of extraction. He doesn't want to get tangled up in hand holding, lip locking and everything far and in between. She gave him an answer, he wants more and he's casually and nonchalantly going to try and get it from her.

"Can you tell me about her?"

Halstead watches her; he tries to gauge her reaction to his request. The wind continues to blow, causing strands of her hair to fly in all directions. He also notices how she purposely stares forward, fingers tapping against the car in an effort to bury her nails into the steel. He doesn't think she's breathing. He honestly doesn't even think she's cognizant of her surroundings, of his presence and even his question. He assumes she's going to hop down from the trunk and demand for him to take her home, knowing that she's protective of the topic but still possibly overstepping whatever boundaries that they did not set in place. He knows all of that, expects it to be true but finds it surprising when a ghost of a whisper comes out, one that's filled with dejection instead of anger, "You don't have to do that Jay."

"Do what? I actually want to know," his hand reaches out to cover hers in order to prevent her from attempting to dig into hard steel of the car; her fingers make no progress, but he still does it regardless, "You should talk about her."

"Not today, I don't talk about her today."

"Maybe you should, maybe you need to because maybe it'll be good for you."

"You want to know about a girl from my past," she sounds surprised.

"If she's causing you this much heartache, then yeah I do."

And that's when she turns her head to look at him, to meet his eyes and watching the smallest smile tug at his lips. He's winning. He knows it. She's considering it. Erin does not go into details about Nadia with anyone but Kelly. He's the only one who knew her, truly knew her and accepted her. It's hard for Erin to talk about it. She hasn't with anyone but Kelly and Dr. Charles and if she's being honest with herself, she doesn't want to talk about it. Not with Jay. Not now. Not today. She wants to leave that part of her life in the past but she finds it difficult. Not embracing her past, wanting to rewrite her past, trying to pretend it didn't happen proved to cause more harm than good –or so Dr. Charles says. It's been six years and while each year she's gotten better, she still feels the heavy burden of guilt and regret weighing her down.

Maybe he's right. Maybe she does need to do this. If she wants this relationship with him to work out, maybe she does need to reveal parts of her past. How could he like her for who she is if he doesn't like or know about what made her that way? So she needs to talk about her. She needs to let him know about her. Their relationship deserves a chance. And in a small breath, she whispers, "I met Nadia a month after graduating from high school," she's looking straight again, needing to avoid eye contact as she talks, "My dad used to be a sergeant of the Intelligence unit in Chicago and even though he left to work in politics, we visited all the time. One day I went down there to drop off thank you cards to his old team and there she was being brought in by his replacement. She was in handcuffs, high on drugs and stumbling over her own two feet. One of her heels was broken," Erin smiled at the memory before continuing on, "well anyway, they needed her to answer a few questions to close up a case and I don't really know the details of that but I do know I made eye contact with her. I saw something in her that I used to see in myself when I went through that rebellious phase. I saw that and I wanted to help because of that so I waited outside of the precinct until she was released. I remember waiting for hours," she chuckled lightly at the memory, "I even ordered pizza and sat on the curb to eat it."

Jay laughed, sliding closer to her, "I can just picture you sitting in front of a police station with a small box of pizza on your lap."

"That's an accurate image to make but instead of a small box picture a large," and when he turns to look at her with the widest eyes, he earns another laugh, "I was out there for hours and when Nadia did join me, I used it to convince her to give me a few minutes of her time. I bribed her. I even paid for her time. She didn't want to get in trouble with her pimp so I paid her for the amount of time she was supposed to be working."

That reminiscent mood, the one filled with happy thoughts and good feelings suddenly shifted. It was obvious by how her shoulders tensed and her fingers started digging into the paint of her car, "We talked for hours that day. I even invited her back to my house for dinner, but she had to get back to her corner before another lady of the night took her spot if you know what I mean," he nodded to in fact let her know he knew what she meant, "I gave her my number. I told her to call me whenever she needed me. She left and I didn't see her again for months. I actually was a few weeks into my freshman year of college, I met Kelly, and I was already becoming friends with him by the time I ran into Nadia again. She was high and I took her back to my dorm room, cleaned her up and sat with her. I thought I made a lot of progress with her that night. Kelly did too. That night after a lot of convincing we dropped her off at a rehab center but she never went in. We watched her walk away. I was hurt, I cried and Kelly comforted me. It was that night when he realized that us politician' kids weren't so bad. I really cared. And after that day, I thought I would never see her again, but a few weeks later, I came back from the movies with Severide to find her overdosing in my bathroom. My roommate was gone but my guards were there. They ushered me out of my dorm and called an ambulance. My parents covered up any link she had to me so the news only reported that she was found overdosed in a dormitory; they left out exactly whose dorm. Anyway, after I found out she survived my parents warned, basically forbade me from seeing her again. They figured with my past in drugs and alcohol, it would be too much temptation for me to hang with a prostitute and addict. I didn't listen obviously and at the time my dad was the vice president so he lived in D.C. while I went to school in Chicago. I didn't have him hovering over me so I did a lot they didn't know about."

She falls quiet, trying to think of the next words to say. And he reaches for her hand, squeezing it to provide her with support, "And then what?"

"I visited her every day in the hospital. Kelly sometimes came with me. I brought her food, clothes and I even came up with a treatment plan. I was going to talk my dad into getting me an apartment off campus and by the time she finishes in rehab, I was going to let her stay with me."

"Did the plan work?"

Erin glances over at him, smiling when she notices the interest and concern in his eye, "It did. I told him I couldn't focus on my studies with all the parties going on and I made up a lie or two about my roommate that convinced him staying on my own was a better idea."

"So what happened after Nadia got out of rehab?"

"We went along with the plan, she stayed with me. She slept on my pullout couch. The Chicago police arrested her pimp while she was in rehab and everything was good…really good. Nadia, Kelly and I hung out a lot. We got to know each. We learned things about one another that we've never shared with anyone before then. Kelly and I helped Nadia get her license, register to vote and create a resume, but when no one would hire her that's when her self-esteem really started to suffer. So, I convinced my dad's old team to hire her as a receptionist. I even talked them into keeping it quiet from my dad since technically I was to have no contact with her. And after that, everything was great; Nadia was clean and sober, she was living with me, she worked as a receptionist at my dad's old district and was saving her money. One day I asked her what did she want to do, if she wanted to be a receptionist forever or do something more. She said she wanted to help people like I helped her but she didn't want to go to college, she wanted to go to the police academy and become a cop but there was one thing holding her back."

"Her criminal record?"

Erin nods, "Bingo. Fortunately for Nadia, she happened to be friends with the daughter of Hank Voight. I got her record expunged and she was reading books and studying really hard for her admittance test. This was all my sophomore year of school now. And it was one of the best years," she's reminiscent again, thinking about the good times: the parties, the short road trips, the late night discussions, the binge eating, the movies, and so much more.

"And then it all changed?" He already knew the answer to his question. It's the reason for her mood today. It's the reason for her lack of the use of the term best friend.

"Yeah it did," she nodded and suddenly her expression and the sound of her voice changed, "it was the second semester of my junior year. There was a serial killer on the loose in Chicago, I don't know if you remember Yates?" he does recall the name; it sounds familiar. And when he nods his head, her breath hitches in her throat, she's trying to grasp for oxygen as she gathers her words, "It was before they knew he was the killer. I brought Nadia lunch the day they brought him in for questioning. I came to drop it off when I saw him. He smiled at me. He smiled at her. We really didn't think anything of it. And that same day, I came to pick her up and he was just released. He smiled and waved at me and her as she got in my car. The next day he called the precinct and wanted to talk to me. He knew I was the vice president's daughter, he wanted me to meet with him to talk and when I offered to go to help them get information on the case, they said no, my guards said no too. I didn't meet him. And it was days after that, the day before my birthday actually when she went missing. She was picking up a birthday cake for me and that's when he grabbed her."

The tears are falling hard and fast now. He doesn't even know how she's managing to talk but she's strong and she gets through it. And he wants to comfort her, to pull her into his arms and not let go but he knows she needs this; she needs to get it all out without him interfering, so he waits for her to continue, "It was a week before she was found. I saw her. I found her," and this time when her voice breaks, he can't resist to reach out, to do something. He wraps his arm around her shoulders and pulls her in close, pressing the smallest brush of a kiss against her head as she continues, "Nadia died because she was one of my best friends. Yates let me know that. He set his sights on her because of our relation to each other. He couldn't get to me because of my guards so he settled for her. He thought because of my father's career killing me would make him go down in history, everyone would know his name, but he couldn't get to me. So he thought the next best thing was Nadia, she was the girl who was my best friend and who was like a sister to me. My parents covered up my connection to that too. I couldn't even throw a funeral for her. She didn't have any other friends and she had no family. And instead of giving her the funeral she deserves, she was cremated and sprinkled who knows where?"

By the long drag of silence, he thinks it's over. He assumes she's finished. And just as she opens her mouth to speak again, he leans over and she pulls back. She's hurting and it's partly due to his insistence that she talks.

When she pulled back again, he brought his hand up to caress the side of her face, using his thumb to brush away the tear fallen from her eye, "After that I went on a downward spiral. If it wasn't for Severide, I probably would have dropped out of school. That was the darkest period of my life. And my parents, Justin, they didn't understand. I was depressed and traumatized and no one knew because technically I didn't know Yates' latest victim; it was mentioned on the news, but my name wasn't. No one knew the connection and besides the select few who did, I couldn't talk about it. It would hurt my future and my dad's political career if they knew his daughter became best friends with a former prostitute and addict. And I didn't fight it. I didn't argue. I stayed with Severide after that. He packed up my apartment because I couldn't go back in there. I couldn't bring myself to do it. And the grieving process was harder than I expected, especially when it came to the anniversary of her death and her birthday. She had so much potential, Jay. Later that year she was supposed to start in the academy; she should be a cop right now, not a corpse. And I know it's been six years and I've seen the progress with myself because at first I was like this every day, even so far as to turn to alcohol to numb the pain, and now I'm just like this two days of the year, feeling all the pain because I don't want to turn to alcohol to soothe it. If I drink, it's to have a good time; it's for social outings, not as a therapeutic relief. I don't grieve anymore because she died, I find myself fighting through the emotions associated with the guilt I have towards her death. I didn't fight to give her a funeral. I was so numb and hungover that I couldn't even bring myself to fight. I got her the job that put her in his crosshairs. I didn't go to meet with him. I showed him how close we were and how much she meant to me by bringing her lunch and picking her up from work. I let her live with me. I convinced her to go to rehab and got her help. She was safer as a prostitute on drugs, Jay than she was with me. What does that say about me? One of my best friends died because she was my best friend."

A tear trickled down her cheek, followed by another, and he could physically feel his heart clench at the sight. Jay hopped off the trunk and turned to stand between her legs, taking her hands and intertwining her fingers with his own.

"Erin," he breathed softly. He didn't know what to expect but he wasn't expecting all of that. Now it made sense why she left work early, why her phone kept ringing, why her guards encouraged her to talk to Severide and why Justin dropped by unannounced out of concern. She's not handling this well. Guilt and regret can drain a person; it can weigh upon their very soul and she doesn't deserve that, she deserves to credit herself for helping Nadia not blaming herself for thinking her involvement led to her death. Her family should have been better. She deserved better. She deserved a lot better.

And as her sobs increased in volume, Jay wasn't reminded of their whereabouts. He didn't know how much time had passed. Their hour could have been up but if that security guard wanted them to leave, he would have to physically remove Jay himself. He had no intention of leaving until she was alright and ready to move.

Erin withdrew her hands from his own and instantly tucked herself in his arms, burying her face in the crook of his neck. When her body shook and he heard a muffled sob, he felt his own eyes betray him, he felt the tears beginning to form and stinging his eyes the second they escape. He should be comforting her; he shouldn't be crying, but he honestly couldn't help it.

Jay stroked Erin's hair as he pulled her in even closer –if that was possible. His arms around her tightened and he lowered his head to whisper into her ear, "Thank you."

She doesn't respond and he doesn't want her to, he doesn't expect it.

He holds her tighter; shutting his eyes and just allows himself to be present in the moment. He's never felt like this, he doesn't even know what this feeling is. An emotional heart to heart was not something he did; it was not something he was normally comfortable with, especially from those of the opposite sex. He didn't do relationships. He definitely didn't do feelings, yet here he was, wanting to hold her tighter but afraid he'll break her. He wants to relieve her of the guilt and the regret she feels and he especially wants or maybe needs to keep her with him in order to protect her forever. He wanted to be her person, her best friend, the person she felt comfortable leaning on. He wanted her to get to a point where he didn't have to push and pry to get her to share what's bothering her. She's always appeared to be so strong, happy and together and it amazes him how much the media and the public doesn't know about what happens behind closed doors.

Always be careful and mindful about how you treat someone because you never know what they're going through. They are words to live by; they are words to remember.

When her crying comes to a stop, he pulls back slightly, "You are so amazing," he paused before continuing, "and I might not be the first person who told you this but you deserve to hear it and I'm going to tell you it until you believe it. I don't know if my words hold any weight but I'm going to tell you anyway. It's not your fault. It's not your fault. It's. Not. Your. Fault."

She moves to interrupt; she tries it but he stops her before she gets the chance. His hands come up to hold her cheeks, urging her to look him in the eyes as he continued speaking with all the sincerity and care he could muster, "You are amazing and what you did for her proves just how special, how remarkable, how selfless and caring you truly are, Erin. You genuinely care about people. You don't see that in today's society too often. It's one of the reasons," oh gosh she's looking into his eyes and it's making his next remark so much harder to say, "It's one of the biggest reasons why" he inhales a sharp intake of breath, "it's one of the reasons why I'm starting to fall in love with you."

He said it. He's in too deep.

It's out there now.

For her to take it how she wants.

And she smiles, truly, genuinely and wholeheartedly smiles.

Erin slides her hands up his chest before settling them behind his neck, thumbs stroking the skin below his ears and fingers ruffling the ends of his hair. He doesn't need for her to respond. It wasn't a declaration of love; it was a declaration of him falling in love. He's not fully there yet so it doesn't pain him that she says nothing in return. The kiss she offers him though says it all.


	16. Peace of Mind

Erin has no intention of opening her eyes just yet; she's mentally floating. And she realizes that he stopped moving, his body warm and pleasurably heavy on top of hers, his length still buried inside of her. His nose is brushing soft touches against her nose as his lips stutter against her lips. When she finally opens her eyes, she is met with his; his pupils dilated and a toothy grin stretched across his face. Both of them are panting loudly, breathing ruggedly. And when Jay finally musters up enough energy, he rolls off the top of her, lying on his back beside her as she curled and cuddled into his side, grinning now that she's sated, "There's something to be said for being apart if it means we get to do that when we're finally back together." Erin said now resting her head against his bare chest. Her face is flushed, her hair is wild and her breath is heavy.

"Tell me again why I agreed to go on tour instead of staying here with you."

She presses a kiss to his bare chest, "…because this was planned before I even came into the picture and the last thing we need for you to do is give the world another reason to think you're leaving the band or the band is breaking up."

Erin rolls over, relieving one side of her body to lay on the other. Unfortunately, they lose contact in the process until Jay rolls over, spooning her from behind. The moonlight shining through her balcony cast a glow in her room, providing him with enough light to see her. Both of them are lying on their sides, tucked into each other, "I don't even want to think about this tour."

She feels his arm drape over her torso and pulls her even closer, "Why? It can't be that bad."

He chuckles, propping his head up on his arm, "You try staying on a tour bus with a bunch of dudes for months and let me know how bad it can be."

"It sounds like fun to me."

"Hmm," he considers her words before responding, "…maybe you'll have to come on tour with me one day, maybe for my next album?"

"I don't know how that'll go considering Rixton hates my guts."

"He doesn't hate your guts."

And he knows that if he were looking at her right now, she would have appeared confused, brows scrunched together and mouth slightly agape, "Have you not been paying attention?"

"He doesn't like you that much I'll admit, but hate is such a strong word," his lips brush over the outline of her ear, dropping to her flesh only to give her lobe a pull.

"How are you two even friends?" he draws his head away and she immediately regrets her last question, "Sorry if I offended you. That wasn't my intention. It came out all wrong."

"I wasn't offended. It'll take a lot more than that to offend me," he brushes his lips back over her ear, swirling his tongue against the outline of it until he fills her body tense up under his arm in desire; she's being turned on, "it's just Rixton wasn't always like that. He was a cool guy at first and you might not believe this but he was a one woman man." His voice is low and he only pulls his mouth away from her ear in order to focus in on the conversation. He doesn't want the distraction, not when they're having another possible heart to heart.

"You're right, I don't believe that. What happened?"

She fills Jay shrug against her backside, "She broke his heart and left him for a doctor a few days before they were supposed to be married."

"Ouch."

"You can say that again."

"So, afterwards he decided he hated women?" It came across as a bit insensitive but she honestly couldn't find herself to care. She wanted to, she desperately tried, but she was starting to not like Rixton as much as he already didn't like her, broken-hearted or not, it wasn't an excuse.

"No, he just doesn't trust them and he especially doesn't like women who remind him of his ex."

"And let me guess? I remind him of her."

"You sure do: young, beautiful, intelligent, brunette and a politician's daughter," he listed off the many similarities before casually adding, "Her dad was a congressman."

"And where is she now?"

"Still in Chicago, married with a kid," the arm resting beneath his head, he stretches out, watching as she lifts her head to now lay upon his muscular bicep.

"That has to be rough," her comment still lacks sensitivity.

Jay doesn't pick up on it; her comments are hidden with a false sense of empathy, "Yeah, but we were there to pick up the pieces and after that I guess the hurt made him close himself off to opening his heart to others. It's been years but he's still hurt and bitter about it."

"And that's where you two differ?"

"Yeah, I guess you could say that," Jay's hand that rest flat against her stomach slowly slides up to her chest, wrapping itself around one of her breast, "I was never hurt like that and I hope I never will be, but I've seen the repercussions of it, I witnessed firsthand what it did to him and I didn't want that for me," his hand pays close attention to her breast, cupping, squeezing and gently tugging and rubbing upon it as he continues, "So yeah we started having fun, we didn't care what others thought because we weren't trying to please anyone. I broke a few laws, I was reckless, I slept around and I acted first and thought about it later. I didn't care who I hurt in the process and I never gave my actions a second thought until…"

When more than enough time passes for him to continue, she decides to take charge of the conversation out of a curiosity for him to finish his statement, "Until what?"

"…until I met you."

Erin reaches down for his hand, pulling it upwards to pepper the smallest of kisses against each of his fingers. She holds his hand with hers, causing for his arm to no longer be draped around her waist but to be wrapped around her shoulders; she brings his hand up, lifting her head to rest his hand against it, nuzzling her cheek against his rough and callused hands, "How long do I have you for? When do you have to leave?"

"…you have me for a good two weeks."

"What should we do in that time?"

"Go-karts," his answer catches her off guard; she lifts her head to glance at him for a few seconds before lowering it back down.

Her low laugh fills the silence of her bedroom, "You're funny."

"I'm also serious."

Once more, she lifts her head to look over her shoulder at him, scanning and reading his face for any type of deception. She doesn't find any. She lies back down, nuzzles her behind against his front as she whispers, "You are serious."

"I haven't been in so long. We could make a date out of it."

"Surprisingly I actually know just the place to go," she replies as he loosens his hand from beneath her head in order to wrap it back around her waist, pulling her closer as his hand opens up to lay flat against her stomach, "it's a five minute walk from my brother's apartment. It doubles as an arcade and it even has a moon bounce."

"A moon bounce? What are you? Five."

"Hey," she elbows him, "you're never too old for a moon bounce."

At that, he must agree. It was an aspect of his childhood he remembered, one of the finer moments filled with innocence, consumed with the love of his parents and brother. It was before the downsides to life settled in, before his mother died, before his father turned to alcohol, before Rixton got his heart broken, before it all. Jay buried his face into the tangled mop of hair scattered around the pillow and his arm, "What time is it?"

She doesn't have to move to glance at her digital clock, "…almost four in the morning."

"Well that explains why it's still dark outside," he places a kiss against the back of her head before sitting up, "My clothes are scattered around your room. I'll just get them in the morning."

And when he makes a move to climb off her bed, she reaches out for him, grabbing his hand and pulling him back, "Don't go."

She honestly didn't have to ask twice. Jay lies back down, spooning her naked body from behind in the exact placement they were in before he sat up, "You know if I was just going to be sleeping in your room, why did you put my suitcase in the other one?"

"My brother was here," she answers matter of fact.

"I'm pretty sure your brother knows we're sleeping together."

"I don't think he does."

"Does he think you're a virgin?"

"I highly doubt that. I didn't really live the virgin life as a teenager."

"Erin Lindsay Voight, are you telling me you were promiscuous as a teenager?"

She chuckles, shaking her head in embarrassment, "I'm telling you I did a lot of stuff I shouldn't have done, but I was safe regardless of what I did."

"Are you going to tell me about it?"

She finds herself appreciating the fact that she's not facing him, "One day," is her answer and she braces herself for his push, for him to nudge her to fess up and talk but it never comes.

Instead, he says, "I'm glad you told me about Nadia."

And that earns a smile and a simple, "I am too."

"One day will you tell me more about her? I would love to know more."

For the first time in years a burden felt like it had been lifted. A tension that was unknown to her, a weight that was on her since her friend's death had eased itself off her shoulders. And while the guilt remained –one night wouldn't simply make it disappear- she felt that in that one night he pushed for her to talk about it had greater impact on her than time did. Time didn't heal the emotional scars she held; time simply passed on by. It was talking about it; it was the actions she chose to take in that time that dictated how she healed. And now, she felt good, she felt better, she felt like she was healing.

"I would like for you to know more," she reached behind her and placed her hand against his neck, pulling his face closer to brush her lips against his, "I think that would help a lot."

"Good," he whispers against her mouth, "that's all I want to do. Help you."

Her neck might have been uncomfortable at this angle, but she made no fuss and no move to change; her lips remained pressed against his, "Who would have thought the guy who ran into me outside of a coffee shop would change my life?"

"I could have changed it sooner if you had just taken me up on my offer to pay for dry cleaning."

As she laughed, she realized an overwhelming sense of peace, one specifically floating in her mind, spread through her whole body. Maybe Dr. Charles was right? Maybe Jay was right? Maybe talking about it does help. It's been less than 24 hours and she already feels a better sense of peace than time was ever able to provide her.

Erin pulled her head away the second her neck started to stiffen. She lies her head back down against his arm and stared forward, watching as the hint of a sunrise peaks in the distance, glimmering behind the Washington monument. She felt him snuggle closer if that was even possible, she felt his arm tighten around her waist, she felt that same arm drift downwards, sliding over her naked form until his fingers hovered above where she needed him the most. She closed her eyes and impatiently whispered, "What are you waiting for?"

He grinned, his white teeth standing out in the darkness.

"It's going to be a good morning," he whispered against her ear, his lips ghosting over her cheek as he pulled her back into his chest, his hand stretching out over her thigh and pulling her leg back and over his own to open her up and grant him easy access in slipping in his hard length through her folds. She whimpered softly, sore from the night before and squeezing her eyes shut in an attempt to ignore the dulling pain.

-x-

While being a celebrity did grant him special privileges and being the daughter of the president granted her great opportunities, when it came to standing in the line at the arcade their titles and careers meant nothing. Erin found herself happy about that. Weirdly enough, she hadn't realized how much she missed standing in an overwhelmingly long line until today. The line, formed and structured by the ropes, wrapped around the corner and since it was the summer and most kids were out of school, it was longer than usual.

Erin didn't mind at all, especially because she had Jay to stand in line with her. Forty five minutes, they stood in line waiting to purchase passes and tokens to grant them access to the arcade games, the moon bounce and the go-karts. She felt like a huge kid. And it felt great, especially because as a kid she had to grow up faster than normal, taking on adult responsibilities and exposing herself to a world and people that weren't the greatest influences.

She stood in a pair of jean shorts, red converse sneakers, and a black and red plaid shirt that was completely unbuttoned. Her white tank top revealed underneath with a necklace falling against her chest. She purposely had her hair in a high ponytail to keep all strands out of her face; she was competitive and the least amount of distractions when battling Jay, the better.

When they moved up a step in line, Jay remained behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, his chin resting on her shoulder as people attempted to take photos and videos of them in hopes that neither of them noticed. It was obvious. Erin and Jay were just used to it and worked to ignore the obvious angles of their camera phones trying to capture the best angle of him holding his girlfriend. His arms around her waist tightened and with his chin on her shoulder, he turned his head to bury into the crook of her neck, "I haven't moved from this position but the same people are taking the same photo. They're going to have 30 pictures of us in the same position. They're using up the space in their phone for a picture of my arms around your waist and my chin on your shoulder," she laughed and he grinned wider, "Let the record stand," he pressed his lips against her neck, "that Jay Halstead," he peppers kisses up her neck and down her jawline, "is not a selfish man."

"Cut the PDA," she swiped her hand at him.

"I'm just trying to give the fans options in their camera roll."

"Did the options have to include you practically making out with my neck?"

He laughed and resumed his earlier position, "Yes," he lingers one last kiss against her collarbone, "but I also want the record to state that I don't care about them. I'm just trying to give my girlfriend the attention she deserves."

What is this man doing to her? She giggles. She actually fucking giggles and blushes at the things he says to her. She's turning into one of those teenage fans of his that swoons at the sight of him winking his eye at them. Erin and Jay move up in line, his arms never once leaving her hips and his chin never once moving from her shoulder, "When do you think they'll be satisfied with the amount of pictures they're taking? Should I say something?"

"No, let them have their moment," she whispered very low to ensure the people in front and behind them didn't overhear, "It's not everyday someone sees a celebrity."

"Or the first daughter," he added.

"And not to mention the two of them practically being unable to keep their hands off each other," she remarked, looking up to meet the few eyes of some teenagers capturing photos. The pictures and their whereabouts are probably already on social media. They're most likely already being talked about on all entertainment channels. She couldn't wait until the newness of their relationship fizzled out and wasn't the excitement of the industry anymore.

They took another step in line when Atwater and Roman rejoined them. Her other two guards had the day off; it was Dawson's daughter's birthday and Sorensen's mother had fell down the stairs early this morning so she sent him, practically ordered him to go tend to her. Atwater stepped under the rope, earning a few eye rolls from the other people in line as he obviously cut in front of them, "I just got finished talking to the manager. You two do know that you don't have to stand in line?"

"We do," Erin nodded her head; her response short and simple yet it leaves both guards confused until she elaborated, "We honestly don't mind standing in line. It adds to the experience. And it isn't fair to everyone else if we just cut in front of all of them to get our tickets."

"That hasn't stopped you before," Roman retorted, earning an elbow to the ribs from Kevin.

"Yeah, well," Erin turned her head to glance at her boyfriend, "present company wasn't there."

Throwing caution to the wind and forgetting about their earlier conversation, he pressed a kiss against her cheek. He could barely keep his hands off of her. She was just so…he honestly didn't know the right words to finish that thought. Perfect. Beautiful. Smart. Everything. If Jay's arms weren't around her, if he wasn't kissing her, he would be touching her in some way, shape or form, whether that be with his hand resting against the small of her back or his arm being wrapped around her shoulders. He was spoiled. And he didn't know what he would do when they separated again and that thought scared him.

He didn't want to do anything to hurt her or jeopardize their relationship.

And he wasn't a serious relationship type of guy.

Jay didn't want to think about that anymore. Instead he focused in on the here and now, the present and the company that was near him. He blinked out of his reverie and focused in on the conversation, Erin was laughing at something Roman had said. They moved up in line, finally seeing the ticket booth. Jay stood up straight, pulling his chin off her shoulder even as his arms remained wrapped around her waist, "Anything else planned for us while I'm on your turf?"

"You said you'll be here for two weeks," as she leans her back against his chest, she feels him nod and she continues, "My dad's birthday dinner is in a few days."

"Erin…"

She cuts him off, "I think it would be great if you came along."

"Erin…"

She cuts him off again, "I wasn't going to invite you, but my mom extended the invite when she found out you were coming into town to visit me."

"I don't know if that's a good idea."

She turns in his arms and her chest now rests against his, "I'm not even going to sugarcoat it. My dad doesn't like you. He doesn't approve of this relationship at all," he opens his mouth to speak but she doesn't give him the chance, "but that's because he doesn't know you. He just knows what's been said about you. This will be the perfect opportunity to let him know the real you, to let him see what I see in you. My mom is already trying, my brother too, but my dad is a stubborn man and he'll need more than my word for it."

He didn't give her an answer as they moved forward in line. And he honestly was hoping she forgot in the few seconds that past, but when her eyes landed back on his, he knew she was waiting for an answer. Jay pulled his arms from around her, "I don't know Er," he whispered, dragging his hand down his face, "Your dad kind of scares me."

"Don't tell me Hollywood's bad boy is afraid of an old man," a smug grin crosses her face.

"This is different Erin," Jay practically exclaimed, but making sure he kept his voice low, "your dad isn't like other men his age. I mean…have you met him?"

"I have but you haven't. You're doing to him what he's guilty of doing to you. You're judging."

They took another step forward, "Based on cold, hard evidence, isn't that what you lawyers rely on. I mean…you practically stormed off, pissed from your family dinner because your dad hated my guts. He nags you all the time about me. He won't change just because I came to his birthday dinner and shook his hand. I may not be all into politics Erin, but I've seen your dad face off against some pretty intimidating people on television."

"That's completely different," she shrugs it off.

"You're right, that's politics and work, but you're his kid. If you were my daughter, I would never let you out of my sight, especially after the whole Nadia incident," he watched as she glanced down at the ground and he reached out for her chin, urging her to look back up at him, "he's just being protective and I can't blame the guy and considering my history with relationships and women, his dislike for me and his protectiveness over you is justified."

"Are you planning on hurting me?"

He looks offended, "No…of course not. Never."

"…then it's not justified," Erin turns away from him, crossing her own arms around her waist as she takes another step forward, "and Jay if you didn't want to go and meet my parents, all you had to do was say that. You don't need to make excuses."

Jay spins her back around and tugs her back into his arms, crashing his lips against hers the second she's facing him again, "I'm not trying to make excuses. It's just," he pulled his head back and tilted it, "don't you think it's a little soon to be meeting the parents?"

"It's just dinner, not a proposal," she chuckled, grabbing onto his hand and pulling him forward as the line started moving once again, "I just figured if we wanted this relationship to work, if we wanted this relationship to last, then it would be nice for the people we love to approve, and that includes both my dad and Rixton. I guess I just assumed our relationship would already have its problems that are associated with long distance, but maybe if we got rid of the two factors that also prove to be obstacles in our relationship, we'll have time to focus on each other."

"I don't care what Rixton thinks. I want to be with you regardless of if he comes around or not."

Erin sighed as they moved ahead in line, "Jay…"

"I just thought it was the same for you too."

"It is," she reassures and takes his hand in hers, "it's just…this isn't a friend we're talking about here. This isn't a coworker. This is my dad, babe."

"So, if he never comes around, if he never approves of our relationship, you'll dump me?"

"I'm not saying that."

"…then what are you saying Erin because I'm trying to follow along here but you're confusing me?" He's trying to keep his inside voice lowered down to a whisper but he was growing frustrated. And she picked up on that, looking over her shoulders to see her guards at the booth, purchasing their tickets.

"I'm just saying it's worth the effort. I'm trying with Rixton and maybe he'll come around eventually. Who knows the future? But, the point I'm trying to make here is that I'm trying and I'm going to continue to try with Rixton because I know how much he means to you as a friend and a bandmate. I'm going to continue to put myself out there for insult and rejection just for the slightest chance that he'll come around. And I'm willing to do that for your _friend_ , Jay. Yeah, you may have known him for years, but he's your friend. I'm just asking you to do the same for me with my _dad_ , this is the man who raised me, who never gave up on me, who decided to change careers the second my mom told him she was pregnant because he didn't want his job to pose a risk to us and he wanted to change the world for me. This is the man who made more sacrifices than I can name, the same man who had a large part in me being here; he's my dad, my role model, I chose my career path because I wanted to be like him. And all I'm asking for you to do is try to get the approval of the most important man in my life."

"I'll go," he whispers, his thumb sliding against her bottom lip as he says it, "I'll go and I'll try and we'll stay as long as you want. Okay?" She silently nods, reaching out to pull him into her arms, hugging him soundly.

It was now time to move ahead in line. This time it was their turn to approach the ticket booth, forcing them to end their hug a few seconds too early. It was already discussed on the way that Jay would purchase the passes for the moon bounce and the go-karts while Erin buys tokens for the arcade games. And the second they're done at the ticket booth, their hands are intertwined and they step further inside of the building.

A high pitched scream erupts and seconds later a swarm of teenagers surround them, well technically surround Jay, holding out any and everything for him to sign his name on. It was just luck that no one asked for an autograph while they were in line. And now it seems as if their luck had run out. It was more people than Erin could count that was surrounding her boyfriend, high pitched screaming, giggles and panting erupted the second Jay winked at a group of girls. He was given a marker and he was signing every piece of paper, book, magazine, napkin or whatever was stretched out and shoved into his face.

And somehow Erin was moved from standing beside him, her hand wrapped in his to being on the outskirts, watching from a short distance as more and more fans swarmed him, either asking for autographs or pictures. She was happy for him. She was happy for his fans. But, she was a little bit selfish. He was here for two weeks and she would be lying if she said she didn't mind sharing him. Erin tucked her hands into her front jeans pockets, her thumbs hanging out as she leans back against one of the arcade games. One ankle crossed over the other as she waited impatiently. Her guards had disappeared to play games and while she couldn't see them right away, she knew they had eyes on her the whole time. She wasn't truly alone. She knew they were watching and if she looked around hard enough, she would see them.

Erin tuned back to Jay and she had to admit, it was interesting watching him interact with his fans. When he signed autographs, she heard the fans say their names and practically swoon the second he repeated it as he wrote a personalized message on whatever they had given him. When it came to photos, he took this a bit more serious than the autographs. Fans asked for pictures, and some even wanted her to join in them, but he declined. It had to be him and the fan or it was no picture at all. She was glad. He knew her so well. Thank you, Jay. When it came to other photos, fans requested certain poses and most he didn't mind doing. Some, he declined. It was normally the ones involving the fans being picked up or kissed by him that he turned down. She was glad. She didn't care if the current group of fans surrounding him ranged from thirteen to twenty; all of his kisses were reserved for her.

If she wants to be with him, she'll have to get used to all of this.

It felt as if the number of fans that surrounded him didn't decrease. It looked as if the group was getting larger and larger. She was usually the one to push him to sign autographs and pay attention to his fans, but today, it felt like she might be the opposite. She wanted to push her way through the drooling fans and pull him off towards the go-karts. It was a straight shot. The line for the go-karts wasn't as long and it was a couple of feet to Jay's right; she could easily do that, but she didn't. She refrained from selfishly grabbing her boyfriend the second he told his fans to not believe everything they read and hear. Collective signs surrounded him just as he reassured his fans that the band wasn't breaking up. She couldn't bring herself to break that up. The way they looked at him, they loved him; they loved a man who they've never met before until today. That amazed her more than anything. How could someone fall in love with a person they hardly knew? How could someone cry when a person they haven't met starts a new relationship?

She didn't expect an answer. She didn't even know if she wanted one. She just found herself curious, especially after the start of her relationship.

Erin withdrew her hands from her pockets and crossed them over her chest just as a woman walked up to her, leaning against the arcade game next to her, "Hi."

Her brow rose when the stranger greeted her, "Hello."

"I'm sorry," the woman bashfully sighed, running her hand through her blonde hair.

"For what?"

"My daughter is a part of the craziness," she nods towards the crowd of fans still anxiously and excitedly waiting for their autograph, "I don't know how you do it."

"It's not that bad if they're worth it."

"You're talking about Jay?" This woman was really nosey but Erin honestly didn't mind the company especially with Halstead, Atwater and Roman all busy.

"Yeah, I am."

The woman turned her head to face the first daughter, "I read somewhere that you changed him," she laughs embarrassingly, "I've been married to my husband for 15 years and I haven't been able to change him. But, seeing how much Jay Halstead is changing just shows that maybe a tiger can change his stripes. What is your secret? How did you manage to do that?"

"It wasn't me, at least not completely I guess," Erin whispered, watching Jay interact with those who absolutely adore him, "you can't change someone who doesn't want to change. I think I just gave him reason to, but he did all of that –the changing- by himself. He deserves all the credit, not me." She met his eyes the second he looked up and when his eyes averted towards the woman beside her, he quirked a brow.

Erin shook her head, sending him a message that had everything to do with a reassurance. The woman wasn't bothering her and she was fine. It was all appropriately translated because once he received it, he turned back to his fans, throwing his arms around the shoulders of two twin brothers and smiled for a photo their older brother was taking on his cell.

"At first," Erin realizes the woman started talking again and she pulled her eyes away from Jay to pay attention; he was such a distraction, "I wasn't comfortable allowing my kids to listen to his band's music because of his lifestyle. I didn't want it to seem like I was encouraging it. My kids listened to it anyway; it's hard to control the music they listen to but I've always voiced my disapproval. I just thought it was a highly inappropriate message he was putting out with his behavior, but since you came in the picture," the woman hesitated over her words, hands shoved into the pockets of her sweatshirt as she continues, "I noticed that he hadn't been in the headlines as much for bad behavior. I see now that when he is in the headlines, it's not bad, it normally has to do with you," Erin smiles as the woman shifts her body, turning completely away from the rock star and his fans to face her, to provide her with her undivided attention, "Now I don't mind letting my kids listen to his music and maybe in the future I'll understand why they see him as a role model. The music isn't bad, but my only hesitance is Kenny Rixton," the woman takes in the stiffness in Erin's shoulders as she stands up straight, "He's just another Jay Halstead, but I haven't personally met him. What do you think of him? Do you think he'll change? And I know you two aren't on the best of terms, but why is that? What happened between you two?"

This time Erin pulls her eyes away from Jay and his fans as she takes in the woman. Her growing suspicion reaching its peak the second her eyes lock with the blonde lady in front of her, "Which kid was yours again?"

The woman appears caught off guard by Erin's question but she answers anyway.

"Her," she points out the girl currently getting her autograph signed, "she's the one in the red."

"I would love to meet her."

"…maybe some other time," the woman offers, hands fumbling inside the pocket of her sweatshirt, "She's busy at the moment."

"Not anymore," Erin tucks her hands into her back pocket and moves to walk past the woman, "I'll go get her. She's probably going to be looking for you soon anyway."

And just as she makes an effort to go towards the woman the lady pointed out, she shouts, "Wait!" And Erin abruptly comes to a stop, "What gave me away?"

She was an entertainment reporter.

"Besides the amount of questions you asked," Erin answered, turning towards the woman with a heavy scowl on her face; she wasn't a fan of liars and she wasn't a fan of reporters; this woman was both, "you kept fumbling inside your pocket, is there a recorder in there?"

"Guilty," the lady sighed, withdrawing it from her pocket, "I just wanted a quote."

"You should have just asked."

"Would you have given me one?"

"No," she whispers, "but it was still my decision to make."

"It's easier to ask for forgiveness than permission."

Erin bit her lip, "And now I'm glad you don't have a quote."

"But I do," the woman clicks off her recorder to preserve the battery.

"No you don't," Erin smiles, "I didn't consent to be recorded and while this may be a public place with little expectation of privacy, I'm willing to take my chances in court if you do decide to use whatever you caught in that device of yours."

"One party consent," the reporter retorted proudly and fully aware of her rights.

"I'm not going to argue the law with you in an arcade," Erin whispered, slowly backing away from the woman, "and I don't even remember what I said in the recording that could be misconstrued, but if you want to take your chances and risk your career, by all means, go ahead."

Hopefully the treat of a lawsuit was enough. Erin watched the woman disappear. She stormed off releasing a huff of breath just as Erin made her way through the endless number of fans. This is ridiculous. Between the number of fans imposing on their date and the reporter who lied straight to her face, she was growing irritated with each passing second. Erin pushes through the last few without even excusing herself, she did excuse herself though when she paused a teenager's selfie with Jay, "I'll be quick," she reassured the frustrated girl, "I just came to get my pass to the go-karts," she doesn't give him a chance to reject or rebut; she reaches into his back pocket and pulls out one of the passes, "Thanks."

"Erin!" he allows the girl to take her selfie before calling back out to his girlfriend, "Erin, wait up!" He's left standing in the middle of a hoard of fans watching as Erin made her way back through the crowd. And instead of turning back to his fans, he follows after her in a light jog, nudging his fans to the side and ignoring their waves and attempts to start conversations in order to reach her. He manages to catch her arm just as she enters the line to the go-kart racetracks, "What's wrong?"

Erin pulled her arm from his hold, "Nothing is wrong; I'm fine." She moves down the line, walking up to the worker to get her pass stamped.

Jay tears it from her hands before she could, "You're not fine, you're upset."

"I'm not upset."

"I'm sorry," he throws out the apology whether he means it or not.

"Why are you apologizing? You don't even know why I'm upset."

"So you admit it then? You're upset."

She rolls her eyes; he's incorrigible, "I'm not upset, I'm just a little annoyed."

"I was trying to hurry up. It's just-"

She cut him off with flick of her wrist, holding her hand up to halt his words, "What are you talking about?"

"Aren't you upset because I was signing autographs?"

She was a little irritated at that but that wasn't the reason for her annoyance. She knew what he was doing was a part of his job and she could never be angry with him for working. If anyone understood the demands of work, the demands of public approval, it was her. Erin stepped back to allow the people behind them in line to walk up; they weren't ready to ride go-karts yet. She grabbed his hand and ducked beneath the rope to step out of line, "I'm upset because there's a reporter here, who pretended to be the parent of one of your fans, just to initiate a conversation with me and she did it to get the scoop between me and Rixton," her face is set firm and somewhat unreadable as she reached forward to wrap her hands around his upper arms, "I signed up to date you Jay; I didn't sign up to be the focus of some undercover operation in order to get the juicy details about your band. I'm just saying, I don't appreciate being used as a tool."

He wasn't happy. Call it that protective urge to just wrap her in his arms and defend her against the world, to shield her from anyone wanting to do her harm, but whatever it is, he wasn't happy. Heated would be more fitting, maybe disappointed and peeved too. He signed up for this, he signed up for the fans when he became famous, he signed up for the reporters trying to get the scoop; she didn't. Same for her dad, he chose to put himself out there with his career, she didn't. She just wanted to help people from behind the scenes, she became a lawyer, not to become rich and famous but so she could do one of the things her parents instilled her –philanthropy. And now, his career was starting to affect her personal life and he felt guilty about it.

Even though she stepped back, it didn't increase the space between them because he instinctively stepped forward, hand cupping her face as he simmered down his anger, "Where is she?"

"I handled her," was Erin's short reassurance yet it did nothing to wipe away his emotions.

"Where is she?" He repeated much more firmly than the last time.

"I'm not pointing her out. You'll just make a scene."

She knew him too well.

Yet, he still wanted an answer, "So what?"

"I don't need you fighting my battles. I'm a big girl."

"I know that," he grabs the open fabric of her plaid shirt to pull her closer, "It's one of the things I like about you," his hands come to rest against her white tank top, laying beneath her opened plaid shirt and gripping her hips, "but it doesn't mean you have to fight them alone. That's one of the benefits of being in a relationship; you don't have to fight your battles by yourself. I can help you. Let me help you. Let me defend you. It doesn't make you weak or any less of the independent badass that you are."

When she's standing so close to him, gaining warmth from his body heat, practically trapped within his orbit, she finds it impossible to resist him. With such a small space left between their bodies, her chest almost flushed against his as she trails her fingers up his arms before wrapping her arms around his neck. She momentarily forgets their surroundings. She overlooks the people near them, side eyeing them for inevitable public display of affection that's coming as she rises to the tips of her toes. The converse shoes on her feet provide her with little height but make the effort of standing on her toes easier and comfortable. She holds him close, keeping him locked in her embrace before pressing her lips up against his. He meets her kiss for kiss; stroke for stroke and he desperately wants to meet more of her, wants to map out the curves of her body with his hands. He wants it all, but even he's hesitant because of their surroundings.

The second he's close to throwing caution to the wind, she pulls her mouth away. She drops her arms from around his neck and gives him such a satisfactory smile, "I thought you said no kissing in public," even though he didn't mind at all, he found it necessary to tease her for it.

"Well," she whispers, chuckling softly at the sight of her lipstick smudged on his lips, "when you say things like that," she wipes the bottom of his lip to remove the smeared lipstick. "It's kind of hard to resist you." She gives him one final peck against the corner of his mouth before taking his hand and dragging him towards the end of the line.

Erin founds herself to be more excited about go-kart racing than him. She was practically bouncing on her feet, her adrenaline rising every time they take a step closer in line. He wants a photo of this moment, to capture this forever. At some point her hair found its way out of the ponytail, her excitement was so much that she needed it out so she could repeatedly run her fingers through it. Jay withdrew his phone and prepared to take a photo because at this point he no longer wanted a photo, he needed one. It'll be something he could look at while he's on the road, a reminder of this moment and how much childlike glee he saw in her. It made him think about her childhood, wondering just how fast she had to grow up that the little things like this make her jump for joy.

Five people are in front of them now and with every minute that passes, they get closer and closer to the racing track. She's grinning ear to ear, and even with her hair concealing half of her face, he can still see it. Jay seized that moment; he captured the photo, a picture of her smiling with her hand covering half of her face in embarrassment. And while her hand concealed the left side of her face, the right side was clear and so was the smile that stretched across it. Half of her face is covered by her hand and another portion of her face is covered by the curtain of her hair; a portion of her smile is shown and her dimples are somewhat masked either by her hand or her hair yet she's beautiful. He's falling hard and fast and that terrifies him. It's even scarier that he finds himself posting that photo to all his social media accounts without a hint of hesitance. She's his girlfriend. He's truly falling in love with her. He adores everything about her. And he wanted people to know. So without any hesitation or a second thought, he posted it and he made sure he tagged her in it.

And he watched and waited, watched and waited until she reached into her own pocket and pulled out her cell. Erin saw the notification and immediately opened it; she saw that in the seconds it took for her to open it up, the post had already been shared and retweeted thousands of times. She grinned, scrolling to the picture and liking it the second her eyes read the caption.

 _That smile._

Such a simple caption yet it meant everything to her. And without overthinking it or wondering what others would think, she commented, _it seems to find permanence there now that you're in my life._

And with such a good peace of mind, she puts her phone back in her pocket. She doesn't worry about the people liking her comment, screenshotting it, or even taking it upon themselves to reply to it because she knows that in order to keep her peace of mind she can't worry about them because the one who matters is standing beside her, he's the one who snuck such an adorable photo of her and shared it with the world. She reached for his hand and intertwined their fingers, "You're a really sweet guy."

"Don't let the people hear you say that," he joked, "I have an image to maintain."

"And here I thought you were trying to change it."

"For you," he wrapped his arm around her shoulders as he handed their two passes over to the worker, "I'll change anything."

"Don't be ridiculous," she nudged his side with her elbow as they were granted access to the track, "now, I must say Jay, I know you don't care about what people think of you, but I wonder what they'll say when I kick your ass at go-kart racing?"

"It's a good thing we won't have to find out," he chuckled.


	17. She Changed Me

As the truck came to a stop out in front of the doors to her father's home –the White House- she felt every bout of courage and confidence dismantle itself from her very core. The woman she was a few days ago, practically pleading for Jay to take her mother up on her invite to her dad's birthday dinner had disappeared now that they were here, sitting in front of the historical house, stalling the moment she has to enter that house. Neither she nor Jay made a move to get out of the car; this was her turf, he planned to follow her lead. Yet, the longer they sat in the back of the truck, the more he wanted to grab her hand and pull her into that house. It couldn't be that bad.

"It's going to be bad," she spoke for the first time since they got inside the car, "I have a bad feeling about this. Why did you let me convince you to come?"

"I'm not worried."

This earned collective brow raises from her guards. They were impressed. He was brave; they'll give him that. Erin wasn't; she felt awful because she didn't prepare him for this. He didn't know what he was going to walk into. Erin unbuckled her seatbelt and turned to face him in his seat, "I should have been a better girlfriend," he simply smiles at the sight of her worried and nervous, "I know my parents. I should have prepped you yesterday for this," she bit her lip as she thought hard, a focused frown expression crossing her face as she sorted through her thoughts, "Okay; I can just give you a quick rundown. Be your best self, my parents can see through any act. Unless they tell you otherwise refer to my parents as Mr. and Mrs. Voight. No first names, not right away. And please, try not to get involved in any of my family drama. You might feel the need to defend me and that's one thing in public, but I don't need that with my family. Please, remember that Jay because the last thing I want is for them to think you're being disrespectful by arguing with them even if it's to defend me. No public display of affection, I beg of you. If they ask you questions just try to answer them and if you're not comfortable answering them, be honest and let them know that. I want them to like you but not at the expense of making you anymore uncomfortable than you already are. And my dad likes to make little snide comments here and there, please, please Jay, just do your best to brush them off."

Rules, so many rules. That's just perfect. A long set of rules for a guy who basically takes it upon himself to not follow them in life. This was going to be more difficult than he initially thought but he wasn't going to let her know that. Instead he slid closer to her, wrapping his arms around her waist as he drew her into his lap, "Take a deep breath and calm down," he takes one with her before continuing, "now I'll admit this is my first serious relationship and the first time I'm meeting my girlfriend's parents, but I'm not worried. I impressed you, didn't I?"

She cuddles into his chest, burying her face into the crook of his neck as she admitted, "This is the first time I brought a boyfriend home to meet my parents."

And in her embrace, she feels him stiffen. They're both quiet because they both know this is a big step. This is a huge step, a step neither one of them has ever taken. And it wasn't even by choice. It was more out of obligation. Her mother extended the invite and while it may seem like he had the option, he wasn't dumb, if he turned it down, it wouldn't have been a good start to impressing her mother. He had to come whether or not he liked it.

His silence continues to make her nervous. She remains on his lap but she pulls away from him, arms dropping from around his neck and face no longer in the crook of it, "You're quiet. I don't know why you listened to me. I don't even know why I listened to my mother. I shouldn't have invited you. That wasn't fair to you. It's only June; we've been dating for almost two months, it's definitely not meet the parents' time. Shit, what did I get us into?"

He noticed that about Erin Voight. When she's nervous or things are out of her control, she rambles. He finds it quite adorable. And if it wasn't for her growing worry, he would have enjoyed watching longer, but he knew that despite how he truly felt, he needed above all else to soothe her worries, "Don't worry about it, Er. I'm happy I came; it's fine. I was going to have to meet them eventually. Just wait until it's time for you to meet my dad."

Erin cups his face, taking in his words as she peered into his eyes. His calm demeanor soothed her, it made her feel better about all of this. But, her worries just showed just how much he meant to her, how much she wanted her parents to approve of this relationship because she desperately wanted this to work. He made her feel something she's never felt before. He's bringing out a side of her that she didn't realize she needed. They fit together, like a puzzle piece, and she could only hope that her parents saw that too. His confidence, whether fake or not, gave her confidence. If he wasn't worried, why was she?

"Erin, it's time for you to go in."

Both of them are suddenly reminded that they weren't alone, they were never alone. She turned to face Atwater, watching him watch them. Her eyes eventually scanned the rest of her guards, meeting each of their gazes and reading them intently. All she sees is approval. If they held any hesitation towards her relationship with Jay, it appeared to be gone now. Watching him comfort her, soothe her worries and put her needs and concerns before his own, settled their reluctance about approving their relationship. They never mentioned any disapproval since it technically wasn't their place, but she could read them, she saw it and it made her feel so much better knowing that it was no longer there. He won them over. So, maybe he'll be able to win her parents over as well.

"Okay," she passes a quick kiss to Jay's lips before sliding off his lap, "where's my dad's gift," Roman holds it out for her to take, "Thanks," she loops her fingers under the strap of the gift bag before opening up the door, "Let's do this, Jay."

"I kind of feel bad that I didn't get your dad a gift," he hopped out of the car.

"Don't even worry about that; it's not a problem," she takes his hand and the two of them walk up the outside stairs of the White House, "You're fine."

The front doors of the historical manor opened up and she led him into the large, air conditioned house. She nodded at a few passing staff members in greeting as she tugged her boyfriend further into the house. He was amazed and she smiled, drawing him in closer to her, allowing him to wrap his arms around her waist as she arched into him, "We're entering into the world of Erin Voight, first daughter," her hands came up to grip his shoulders as she peered into and took in his confused eyes.

His head tilted as he responded, "What world did I enter into already?"

"That was Erin Voight, regular, everyday citizen."

He smirked, that dashing and charming grin that honestly made her want to swoon appearing on his handsome face, "And is this Erin different than the one I'm falling for?"

"I hope not."

"Hey," his thumb traced her bottom lip before he leaned forward to kiss her, "nothing's going to change between us."

"I'm going to take your word on it," Erin withdrew herself from his arms and reached for his hand again. Now, it's time to go forward, to lead him into the dining room and get the metaphorical show on the road before her nerves increased and she whisked him back into the car and far away from her parents.

When Jay entered into Erin's world as the first daughter, he already noticed a slight difference. It could be her posture, it's straighter, it could be her diction, it's refined, or it could even be her outfit, it's…he can't even think of the right word for it. She's wearing a navy blue, off the shoulder two-piece tea-length dress with a pair of white heels; her hair is in a braided crown atop her head and the diamond studded earrings she wore spoke of high prestige and wealth. He was kind of surprised to hear that her father's birthday dinner was a suit and tie event; he hated getting dressed up just to eat. It was a waste of a good outfit.

Erin set her clutch between the side of her breast and her arm, holding it there while one hand held the gift bag and the other held his hand, leading him down a long corridor until they reach the dining room. He watches her take a slow and deep breath before pushing the doors open and leading him inside. It was an elegant room. The dining room consists of a long table and more chairs than what is needed for such a small and intimate birthday dinner. There's a fireplace he notices emitting warmth within the room as the fire blazes high and the picture of Abraham Lincoln above it captures his eye; the former president painted sitting in a chair with his hand clipping his chin as he thinks. About what? Jay finds himself curious to know.

The carpet was white; the drapes that hung and decorated the two large windows were white and beige. The floor was hardwood, but the rug was so long and wide that it covered up most of the floor besides the corners. The large mirror that hung above a long, oak table off to the side was bordered with a gold metallic. On top of the table sat a long assortment of food waiting to be served buffet style. Lids covered the food and the mystery about what they will be eating for dinner remained so. In the center of the room was the dining room table and above it dangled an antique looking chandelier that in combination with the light shining through the windows provided the room with an ethereal glow. On top of the dining room table sat an embroidered beige tablecloth, and in front of each chair sat a placemat, consisting of glass plates, and silverware perfectly positioned in order of course. He counted off the placemats, "I thought this was going to be just your parents, brother, you and me."

Erin followed his eye, "Oh, it is, it's just the table is always already set. They'll remove the extra placements once everyone is here and seated."

With her hand still wrapped up in his, they walked further in the room. The sound of her heels gaining the attention of everyone inside, including family and staff. Voight smiles, it's a look Jay never thought he would ever see in person. Even watching the guy on television, he's never been able to witness a genuine smile coming from the man. And now, with his eyes directed on his daughter, he saw it. He saw the care, the love and the resemblance between the two. Jay knew in this moment that he'll have to try; her dad meant the world to her and he owed it to her to try his damn hardest to gain his approval. Erin released his hand, crossing the room only for her dad to meet her somewhere in the middle, arms enveloping her into a hug as he pressed a kiss to her cheek, "Happy birthday dad," she whispered, holding him tight in her arms.

"Thank you, Erin," he gave her one last parting kiss against her cheek before the hug ended.

"Happy birthday sir," Jay approached this time, wiping his sweaty palm against his slacks before extending his hand. And at some point during the greeting his throat became dry; he didn't even recognize his own voice. He wasn't just meeting his girlfriend's father, he was meeting the president of the country, and he was meeting one of the most powerful men in the world.

"Thank you," Hank Voight returns the gesture and shakes his hand.

Erin sets her dad's gift near her seat and turns to face her mother and brother as they approach. Her dad is back at his chair, the smile that once graced his face no longer as big as it once was. His eyes occasionally avert towards Jay, watching him closely as his wife and son goes to greet them. Erin takes the lead in introductions, looping her arm through her boyfriend's arm, "You already met my brother," he shakes Justin's hand, "and this is my mom."

"It's nice to meet you," he expects a handshake, but Camille not only surprises him but she surprises her family as well as she pulls him into a hug she normally reserves for her children, "I look forward in getting to know you. Come now, you two are right on time. The food is ready."

Camille leads them towards the table, allowing them free reign to choose where they want to sit. Voight sits at the head of the table with Camille and Justin sitting to his right and Erin and Jay sitting to his left, directly across from the first lady and the first son. The other end of the table is left unused and the staff now takes it upon themselves to remove the placemats. Camille reaches for her glass of red wine and rises to her feet to speak, "Before we get up to get our food, I would like to make a toast," she pauses briefly as everyone grabs their own glass, "I want to wish my husband and best friend the best of birthdays. You may be older but that hasn't knocked you down one bit. And sitting here, with two of our best creations, extends my love for you, Hank. You gave us so much and I hope that if not any other day, today we return the favor. We love you, Hank, always and forever." Erin and Justin nodded to back up their mother's toast.

Each person clink their glasses together over one of the centerpieces before bringing the rim up to their lips, taking a small sip before setting their wine glasses back down. It was time to eat and no one wanted to drink too much on an empty stomach. Voight was first in line at the table off to the side, holding his plate and grinning widely as he takes in all of his favorite dishes prepared with perfection in honor of him. Camille was behind him and then Jay, Erin and Justin brought up the rear. As they move down the buffet style setup, Erin occasionally felt her brother nudge her side and only out of annoyance did she respond to it, "What Justin?"

"Dad doesn't look too happy," he nods over to the table; Voight and Camille were seated once again and Jay had just returned to his seat.

Without even giving her boyfriend a chance to settle in, her mom already started firing off questions in the hopes of learning about Jay Halstead as much as she can in the next couple of hours. Camille looks overeager while her boyfriend looks comfortable; she is too far to hear but just by the sight of it, he's answering her questions with casualness and ease. He's unconcerned so why isn't she? Maybe it's because of the look on her father's face; he doesn't look happy and part of her feels guilty for that. She knew it was because Jay was here and she really knew it was because of her relationship with him. She was ruining his mood on his own birthday and the guilt was starting to eat at her. Justin nudged her again, "Are you going to finish making your plate or am I going to have to cut you in line?"

Erin snaps out of it the second her father's eyes reach hers; the second he looks at her the smile he had on his face earlier is back. Maybe she's not ruining his birthday, maybe he has a lot going on. He is the president and because of that he's not allowed to tell them things that are considered confidential. Maybe he has to make a decision and it's weighing him down, maybe not everything is about her and Jay. She smiles back. She finds comfort in that. She turns back to resume making her plate, "Have you tried this?"

Justin peered down at it and shook his head, "Nope and I don't plan on trying it today."

She nods in agreement, fully backing up his decision and taking it on as her own. She finishes making her plate and walks back over to the table, taking the seat across from her mom with her father seated at the head towards her right, "Erin, honey, your boyfriend is very charming."

It seems that Jay was winning Camille Voight over. That's huge, that's a good step. If you win her mother over, it's only a matter of time before her dad follows. And while Camille was hesitant about her relationship with him like so many others, she instantly came around the second she saw them together, the second she saw how happy he makes her. They hadn't even been here long and her mom already noticed a change in Erin, she noticed how by him just being in her presence made her more relaxed, calm and together. He's changing her. And Camille would definitely argue it was for the better.

Her dad hadn't spoken a word to Jay since they arrived. That was obvious. Whether it was on purpose or not, everyone noticed it. He let his wife carry the conversation with his daughter's boyfriend and he allowed his son to fill in any bouts of silence that may consume the room.

Her mother was coming around, her brother was coming around and all that was left was for her dad to come around and if Erin needed to brag about her boyfriend to do it, then that is what she shall do, "Dad," Erin swallows a bite of food before continuing, "did you know that Jay will be going on tour soon?" This intrigues her mother and Camille desperately wants to ask follow up questions but she knows her daughter, she knows what she's trying to do.

"Is that so?" He doesn't sound impressed.

"Yeah, it's to promote their album. And Jay here is the one who writes all the tracks, he's currently working on their next album. The goal to get it released is when again babe?"

"Next summer," Jay answers.

"Right, it's next summer."

Voight sets his fork down onto his plate, "What do you even sing about? Sex? Drugs? Money?"

"Have you ever listened to his music? He sings about life, dad."

"All of those are aspects of life," Voight retorted, before finishing off his glass of wine.

Erin looked at her mother, begging with her eyes for her help and Camille used the lap in conversation to wave over a staff member, whispering for him to bring in the birthday cake. That conversation was slowly on its way to resembling the last conversation they had about Jay, the one that ended with Erin leaving early. And neither of them wanted that, especially on his birthday. The staff disappeared and seconds later, the lights were dimmed and a cart was wheeled out with a three-layer birthday cake sitting on top of it lit up with candles.

Everyone rose to their feet to sing with the exception of the man of honor. Voight turned in his seat, grinning from ear to ear as the staff even joined in on the celebration. Clapping erupted when the final verse was sung and silence followed as they watched Voight stand up, close his eyes to make a wish and blow out his candles. A few choruses of happy birthday were said again along with a warm pat on the back before the staff members resumed their work, clearing the table of the finished plates and refilling their glasses with wine.

Camille grabs the largest knife and slices into the bottom layer of the cake. She smiles at Greta –one of the kitchen staff members- when she brings out a stack of saucers, "Would you like some cake?" Greta simply smiles and nods her head, "Okay, good because we have more than enough to share. Can you ask the rest of the staff if they would like some as well?" Greta disappears.

Erin is given her slice after her father gets the first and the largest. It's his favorite kind of cake, and that smile he once wore, so genuine and full of joy was back onto his face.

"Thank you, Mrs. Voight," Jay says after he's given a slice of cake.

"You're welcome, Jay, and please call me Camille."

Jay's eyes meet Erin's and she gives him a proud nod. And that gives him such a good feeling inside. His girlfriend looking at him with such gratitude and appreciation made him feel good; it made him feel really good. And he promised himself in this moment that he wants to earn that look from her all the time, he wants that to be one of the signature looks reserved for him and only him. Jay's hands rest in his lap now that he's finished eating his cake; his hands are fumbling as he thinks of something to say, "This place is really nice."

"I wish I can take the credit for decorating but this house comes fully furnished."

"Yeah," Erin rolls her eyes in agreement, "it's part of the reason why she decorated most of my condo. She had to scratch that interior design itch."

Halstead lifts his plate the second Camille reaches out to place another slice upon it. He didn't mind. If over-eating a really good birthday cake would keep him in her good graces then he'll eat the whole damn cake. He lifts his fork to take another bite, savoring the sweet taste of vanilla icing, "This cake is delicious. My compliments go to the chef."

"Why, thank you," Camille said, blushing at the compliment.

"Mom, you seriously made this?"

"Yes Justin," Camille chuckled, setting another slice of cake onto her son's plate, "and don't be so surprised. I haven't cooked in years so I managed to weasel my way into the kitchen and whipped up this beautifully three layer cake for one of my favorite guys."

As she listened to her mother, Erin reached over and set her hand down against his thigh, squeezing it gently as a silent thank you. He looked at her and grinned only for her to reach forward and swipe a drop of icing from the corner of his mouth. And Jay couldn't help himself, he knows she said no public display of affection, but she was irresistible. He leaned into her hand and licked the icing off the corner of her thumb, "It tastes even better."

"You know," Voight cleared his throat and spoke up, "I was hoping this was a phase. I was hoping you would eventually see reason. You're making a mistake, Erin," he throws his napkin onto his empty plate; "I can't just sit here and be quiet about this. You're choosing this man over everything you've worked your whole life to build." Maybe eating the icing from her finger wasn't such a good idea?

"Dad, I'm not! Nothing has changed but how I feel for him."

Hank rolls his eyes, "He's just some guy."

"He's not just some guy," Erin struggles to remain calm, "He's a guy I'm serious about, a guy that I'm starting to fall in love with." Jay reaches under the table to hold her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze to remind her that he feels the same way.

Her family is surprised by the outburst, even more so by her admittance. Voight leans back in his seat, arms crossed over his chest as he considers her words. There's a smirk on his face, one that sends chills through all of their bodies as they wait for his next words.

"You've been seeing him, for what, two months?" she nods "You're not falling in love with him. You're just infatuated with him, Erin. And does he even feel the same?"

"I do," Jay notices that Voight refuses to meet his gaze.

"Dad, we're getting pretty serious," she tightens her hand around his; "I like him. He likes me. I have never brought a guy home to you so shouldn't it mean something that I brought him here?"

Voight searches his daughter's face, looking for any falter in her expression, any sign that proves that she's only saying that to get a rise out of him. He doesn't find one but that doesn't stop him from arguing his point, "Erin, his reputation is," Voight searches his vocabulary for the right word, "I can't even think of the right word, but he's not right for you, not right for your future and he's definitely not right for this family."

"I'm right here," Jay casually mentions, waving his free hand.

Only Hank ignores him and continues his rant, "You know I hate arguing with you but I cannot sit here and watch you make one of the biggest mistakes of your life. Imagine what this'll do to your future, to my campaign, to the reelection-"

Erin threw her hands into the air, "None of this is about you dad!" she interrupts, "My life does not revolve around you! This," she pulls her hand out of Jay's hold, "This is about me, it's about what I want, what I love and that's Jay."

"Is that what you want Erin? You want to let a man, a known bad boy, come between us?"

"I don't want to argue with you on your birthday," she whispers, calming herself down, "I have to go to the restroom. I'll be back."

Jay couldn't even meet the eyes he felt fall upon him. He stared down at his lap, rubbing soothing circles into his knuckles before realizing that someone slid into the seat beside him. The one Erin had vacated only moments earlier. He looked up to see Voight sitting in Erin's earlier seat, arm stretched out behind his chair with his leg shaking erratically, "If you care about Erin as much as you imply that you do, you'll leave her alone."

"Hank!" Camille shouts, glaring daggers at him from across the table.

He ignores his wife and continues, "What are your intentions with my daughter, Jay?"

"I like her a lot," he admits, refusing to meet the eyes of her father, "I'm serious about her, about this relationship. I wouldn't have come here to willingly be grilled by you if I wasn't."

"Why her? Why the president's daughter?"

"With all due respect sir," Jay uses his thumb to swipe some of the icing off his plate, "this has absolutely nothing to do with you. I like her. She changed me. She's changing me and it's definitely for the better. You can't see it now, but maybe if you give me a chance you will."

"I can't just give you a chance, not at the expense of my daughter getting hurt in the process."

"I won't hurt her."

"How do I know that?"

Erin groaned earning everyone's attention. Her heels clicked against the wood floor with purpose before being silenced by the rug. Her hands are placed on her waist, gripping her hips in irritation, "You're interrogating him!" Erin said accusingly to her father as she stormed over to stand between him and her boyfriend.

"I'm not."

"Happy birthday, dad," Erin picks up his gift and sets it down in front of him, "Come on Jay," she extends her hand towards him. He rises from his seat and intertwines his fingers with hers.

Camille rises from her seat, prepared to chase after her daughter, "Don't run off this time!"

"I'm not," Erin reassures, "I'm going to go cool off first. I don't want to leave things like this."

"Thank you,"

Erin nods at her mother before leading Jay out of the dining room.

"Where are you going?" He finds himself struggling to keep up with her fast steps.

She calls over her shoulder, "I'm going to give him a tour of the house."

That was partially true. She had every intention of walking around the house with him, but a historical tour of the premises was not in her job description. She was not knowledgeable enough to give him a tour based on the history of her parents' current home. The halls were quiet; most of the staff had been released early in the afternoon and the remainder of the staff was near the dining room. The young couple walked down one of the many long corridors, his arm draped over her shoulders as they walk along the linoleum tiled floor, "I didn't want to cause problems."

She sighs, taking in the peace and quiet before responding, "You didn't cause anything."

"I ruined your dad's birthday dinner."

"No, you didn't, Jay," she reassures, pulling him to a stop, "it's not ruined and if it was it was by his own hand not yours. I'm such an idiot."

"Hey, we're not doing that, we're not talking down about you."

"I am," she defended her earlier remark, "I was so busy focused on giving you rules for meeting my parents, begging you to meet them and be on your best behavior without even considering giving my dad the same talk, without even checking to see if he's even willing to give you a chance. I practically set you up and that wasn't fair."

He wrapped his arms around her waist, hand resting on her stomach, "You had good intentions."

"That doesn't excuse what I did or I guess didn't do," she replied, leaning her head back on his shoulder, "I know how it feels when people misjudge you," she sighed, eyes falling closed, "when people don't give you the benefit of the doubt."

"Is he really misjudging me though?"

She turns around in his arms, "What do you mean?"

"I'm just saying he's judging me based on things I've actually did and said. Most of it is true."

Erin bites down upon her lip in reflection before stepping out of his hold; she hated thinking about his past, "Can we talk about something else?"

"Sure…" he sighed, burying his hands into his pockets as his eyes cast downwards.

If she doesn't want to hear about his past and all the details involved with it, how could they possibly get closer? How could they ever work towards something serious and maybe permanent if she doesn't want to understand all that he's gone through? He feels Erin pull his hand out of his pocket as she leads him out of the hallway and towards the backdoors of the house, "Over there," she points towards the Washington Monument, "is where some of the best fireworks are shown during the fourth of July? It's practically an all-day event. Bands come to play music, vendors set up to sell food and at night the fireworks show is spectacular."

"I've always wanted to be a good enough musician to be invited to perform at the White House, based on my own merit, my craft," he admits in a low whisper, feeling himself grow vulnerable at the confession, "If I ever get an invite, then I know I made it like truly made it and it'll all be because of my talent, how good my band really is, you know?"

She doesn't answer. She simply smiles and tucks that piece of information away.

The couple continues to walk, her leading him towards a foyer. Before she could lead him up the stairs, she notices her mom's assistant approaching, "Sorry to interrupt Erin but your mother wants to see you. She said it'll be quick."

Jay catches her wrist before she walks too far away from him, "Do you think I can stay in here? Call me a coward, but I really don't want to face your dad after that."

"Sure," she leans forward to kiss his cheek before following after her mom's assistant.

Jay is left in the solitude and silence of the foyer. For such a large house that is normally bristled with people and activity throughout the day, it seems quiet, eerily quiet. To keep himself busy, he walks on over to the artwork aligning the nearest wall, examining each piece of art under a critical lens. He recognizes some of the presidents painted portraits, and to be honest, he barely recalls the portraits of presidents that aren't as well-known as others. Jay stands in front of another portrait, a portrait of the current president, –Hank Voight. He examines it, the man in a striking suit with such a hard expression on his face. That's the man he's up against, the barrier that could prevent him and Erin from reaching the full potential of their relationship. He was deep in thought, transfixed by the man's hard eyes, only for his train of thought to be interrupted by a gruff voice clearing from behind him, "If you truly care about my daughter, you would see she deserves better."

"That's probably true, but she's an adult, she can make her own decisions," Halstead turns around to face his girlfriend's father, "She's a big girl. She knows what she's doing."

"I'm that big girl's father. And don't you ever forget that."

"I don't think you'll give me the chance to forget it."

"I swear Halstead," Voight stepped up to him, staring up at his own portrait along with Jay, "if you hurt my daughter and that just doesn't mean physically, but if you hurt her, cheat on her, put your hands on her, pull her into one of your breaking the law activities, I will ruin you."

"I don't appreciate you threatening my career."

Voight's expression resembles the one in his portrait, "And I don't appreciate you using my daughter to make it seem like you're trying to clean up your image."

"I am trying to change my reputation."

His dark chuckle sends chills through Jay's body, "You're a rock star, Jay. You travel the world, sleep with countless women and break a number of laws. My daughter, my Erin," he inhales a sharp intake of breath, "my kid is so smart, kind and caring and she's willing to help anyone who needs it at the risk of being taken advantage of. I know people like you. She seems untouchable, she's the daughter of the president, and she'll be the biggest notch on your belt. Your last album flunked so what better way to get your name out there, to promote your next one than being the talk of the town, than being in the news for your relationship with my daughter?"

"Dad," neither man can say anything as Erin approaches, face scrunched together in thought, "what are you doing here?"

"I live here."

"I know that, I mean, here in the foyer when your party is in the dining room."

Hank gave Jay a pat on the back before turning away from him. He approached his daughter and took both of her hands in his, "I was looking for you. I wanted to thank you for my gifts even though I told you like I do every year that you didn't need to get me anything," he wraps his arms around her, "you being happy and healthy is a present in itself."

"You're welcome dad, I'm just glad you like them."

He squeezes her one last good time before casting a quick glance over his shoulder towards Jay and then walking off, back in the direction of the dining room.

"What did you end up getting him?"

Erin is still staring off in the direction her dad disappeared in, "I got him a pass to the gun range. I even already cleared it with his assistant to set it up on a day he has off. I also cleared it with his secret service guys too. My dad hasn't been able to go in years. I knew he would like it," her voice is barely above a whisper; she hasn't even looked back at him yet, "I also got him a locket with a picture of my family inside of it from the day of his inauguration. That way it'll make traveling for work easier for him. It's always hard for my dad to travel and leave us even though we're all adults here," she cracked a small smile.

Erin finally turns back to face Jay to find him looking visibly upset. He always wore every emotion on his sleeve, giving her a glimpse into what he felt every time they were together. She wanted to know what was wrong, she wanted to ask him but then she was in his arms and he was holding her so tight he could probably break her if he holds on any longer.

"Jay, what's wrong?" She whispered into his shoulder.

"It's not important."

"No, nope, you don't get to do that."

He pulls himself out of her arms, "Do what, Erin?"

"You don't get to refuse to talk, not after spending the last few days making me talk."

Jay knows she's right. They both know it. If they want this relationship to work, they have to be honest and open with what's bothering them. It's easy to hear about other people's problems but when you have to be vulnerable and admit your own, it's easier said than done. Jay chose his words carefully, "It's just…" he's nervously scratching behind his neck, "maybe your dad is right; maybe I am all wrong for you."

Erin grew pale at his words, a rush of cold washing through her body at the fear of him pushing her away, "What are you talking about?"

A staff member entered the foyer and Erin knew that he wouldn't elaborate. It was already hard for him to talk when it was just the two of them; she knew that an additional person would leave him mute. So because of that, she grabbed his hand and practically yanked him up the stairs, taking him to a private corridor for him to finish. She's walking pretty fast, wanting to find a safe, quiet place to talk, but he's content in the hallway, it's empty enough. Jay tears his hand from her hold in order to gain a semblance of control, "I'm a rock star Erin. I'm an entertainer. I didn't go to college. My reputation could hurt whatever plans you have for your future and I don't want that to happen."

She's confused; her brows are furrowed and her head is tilted, "Plans for my future? Jay…wha…what are you talking about?"

"I care about you too much to let my screw ups jeopardize your future."

Erin knew that this moment was stemming from dinner tonight with her family. She knew that his fear and his hesitance were founded on some sort of incident that transpired when she was away. This wasn't what she wanted; this was not how tonight was supposed to go.

"What happened?"

Jay's eyes glance at her and his hand came up to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing the skin beneath her eye and she repeated her question, "Jay, what happened?"

"Tonight just put things into perspective."

"Do you trust me?"

He tilts his head, "What?"

"Do you trust me?"

"Yeah, of course I do," he whispers.

"Then trust that I know what I'm doing. Don't doubt me. You're not going to ruin any plans for anything. I can promise you that."

"What about your career in politics?"

She shrugs her shoulders, "I don't even know if I want a career in politics to be honest. I'm not completely opposed to it anymore but I like my job now, I like what I'm doing, I'm content with it. I don't need to be in office to make a difference."

"Are you sure?"

"I am. And I'm pretty sure that whatever my dad said to you before I arrived had you feeling pretty insecure about our relationship," he opens his mouth to deny it but she doesn't give him the chance, "I know my dad and I'm starting to get to know you. He can be intimidating but don't let him get to you, don't let him get in between us."

Jay's face softened, "Get in between us," he reached for her hip, drawing her in until her body was flushed against his, "the last thing I need is for him to get _in_ between _us_."

Erin bit her lip as she took in the dark, longing want in his eye. She could feel his body heat radiating onto her own, leaving her in need of him, desperate need with a thirst that needs to be quenched. And by the look on his face, he felt the same way. If they were going to get through the rest of today, they needed to satisfy their hunger for each other. That bad boy urge within him was coming out and he couldn't control his alter. Jay hauled her back into his arms, smirking when she lets out a loud yelp, "Quiet."

She didn't have to be told twice. The old her would have thought about it, would have hesitated and rejected his attempts but the new her liked the thrill, liked the idea of possibly getting caught. Her fingers curled around the collar of his button-up shirt in order to crash his lips on hers in a bruising kiss as he pushed her up against the wall, "Are we really about to do this?"

"We're really," she breathed as his lips moved over her jaw and down her neck, "we're really about to do this, but we," she groaned the second he nipped at her pulse point, "We…we, uh have to be quick and quiet. We wouldn't want a scandal." He captured her lips silencing any other further words she may have wanted to say.

The shadowy hall masked their figures but the fluorescent moonlight shining in from outside cast just enough of a glow onto their bodies. Their hormones were skyrocketing; he knew it was no point in looking for a room because they would never make it there. Passion overwhelmed their forms in an unstoppable and overpowering way that neither was used to, neither was prepared for but both were willing to take advantage of it.

With her body pressed between his and the wall, his hand slid over her dress, feeling her soft curves underneath. He wanted to pull the crown braid out; he wanted her soft, brunette tresses to fall and curtain around her shoulders. Erin pushed his suit jacket off his shoulders and smirked as it fell to the floor. Her hands drifted down his chest before gripping and fumbling with his belt buckle, "This damn thing," he grinned, covering her hands with his own to take over.

Finally his pants dropped and Halstead emitted a soft moan the second her hand reached inside his boxers and wrapped around his member, "That's it, Erin." He released a shuddering breath as he gripped the bottom of her low cut dress and began pulling it up, "How much time do we have before they send someone looking for us?"

His hand practically tore at the one barrier between them –her underwear, yanking it until it fell to her feet, "We, uh," her head fell back and her eyes closed the second his hand brushed against her core, sending a shiver through her body, "we probably don't have long."

"Step out of your panties," she followed his order, "and wrap your leg around me," she continued to follow his instruction, lifting her leg until it wrapped around his, drawing him in until she felt their bodies touch in more ways than one.

His hand gripped her leg, pulling it up higher and pushing his body against hers closer, "I want you to hold onto me," he asserted just as he used his free hand to guide himself in, "Hold on tighter, that's it," he directed. It hadn't been long, truly it hadn't been long since they've had each other, but for some reason it felt like a lifetime. Jay continued to push in her, so far that it felt like he brushed against her womb. It felt amazing, absolutely astonishing and Jay knew that if he wasn't so sure before, now he was even more positive that they fit together, like a puzzle piece. He didn't give a damn about anyone right now but her; she's wrapped around him, how could he possibly be thinking of anyone besides her?

Surprisingly, regardless of their location and time restraint, Jay savored this moment for all its worth. How did he get so lucky? Never in his wildest dreams would he imagine himself, a rich musician, bachelor and all around world class bad boy was not just dating but currently having sex with a wealthy lawyer, philanthropist and current first daughter of the country.

"Faster," he snapped out of his reverie to heed her order.

Moving faster, harder and all around more erratic than he was moments ago had her crying out, struggling to mask her pleas and moans by biting down upon his shoulder. The pace was almost brutal, skin slapping against skin, both of them rising close but not close enough to fall over into a blissful state. With each passing second, the chance of getting caught went up. Statistics were high. Eventually they would have to go back or someone would come looking for them. It was a drifting thought that the possibility of him actually hurting her was high, but she made no complaint, she only whispered in his ear, urging for him to go faster.

Erin held onto him tighter, arms practically closed around his neck and hanging on for dear life. He wanted to see her face, he needed to see it, "Look at me," she followed his order and withdrew her face from his shoulder to glance down at his face.

Both of their expressions contorted into pleasure, little whimpers of passion, pleasure and moans of ecstasy escaped their swollen lips. He pressed his lips back to hers, both struggling to kiss the other while their lungs burned in a desperate attempt to bring in oxygen. His pace increased and he was forced to break the kiss to breathe, "You're not as innocent as your family thinks," he growled into her ear, "you're being fucked against a wall Erin and you love it."

She did.

"Jay," Erin moaned softly, lifting her other leg up and tightening it around his waist; he helped, tightening both of his hands around her thighs to keep her leveraged up.

Halstead captured her lips again as he increased his movement, pushing them both over the metaphorical edge. His body shook in accordance with hers. Both trembling as he urged her to unwind her legs, he clenched onto her hips to steady her the second her heels touched the ground, legs wavering from the high her body just reached. Her head fell back against the wall and her chest heaved up and down, "Wow."

He grabbed for the back of her head, bringing her forward to crash his lips against hers once more, "Wow is right," he pulled away, brushing his thumb over the dimple in her cheek, "Are you alright? I wasn't too rough, was I?"

"Mm," she sighs before clearing her throat, "I'm fine. I'm better than fine, I'm great."

Jay smiled softly, finding a look in his eye that she's never seen before, one that kind of makes her look forward to the future and all that's along the way for them. This is going to be a fun ride.

-x-

By the time they freshened themselves up and made it back to the dining room, there was a small makeshift stage set up with her mom standing on top of it performing karaoke. She was singing a duet with Justin, only the latter didn't look as if he was having as much fun as their mother. He was standing in place, microphone held up to his mouth as he dryly sang his assigned lyrics while Camille glided across the stage, heels discarded somewhere near her father as she attempted to hit a high note that was way outside of her vocal range.

Erin was embarrassed.

This was a side of her family the public weren't privy to see. Most of the public saw her father as hard and stern, her brother as free and careless and her mother as an uptight perfectionist. This definitely put the first lady and the first son in a new light at least where Jay is concerned. He wrapped his arm around his girlfriend's waist, pulling her into his arms, "Now this is what I call a party," he laughed the second Erin slapped his chest.

Once the last note of the song was sung, Camille and Justin turned off their microphones and hopped off the stage. Camille proud of the duet and pulling her baby boy into a tight hug as he squirmed in her embrace, embarrassed with all the prying eyes from the people around them.

"Mom, that was great," Erin left Jay's side and walked up to her, "Justin, you were good too."

"She forced me," he remarked, walking off to go take a seat next to his father. He made sure that on his way to his seat, he bumped into her shoulder in an act of revenge for the smirk on her face. She stumbled a little but it only made her laugh a bit louder.

Camille smiled, enjoying the bond between her two children before glancing over at her husband. His expression still set in a firm glance as his fingers toyed with the chain around his neck, the gift from their eldest child. She liked Jay. She sees her daughter now and she's truly starting to think he's good for her. Maybe if she gets involved? Maybe if she gives it a little push and shows her husband just how talented and interesting Jay Halstead really is? She had planned for him to sing the second Erin said he agreed to attend Hank's birthday dinner. It was one of the reasons why she added karaoke to the list of activities.

"Hey," she maneuvered past her daughter to approach him, "would you care to sing a song? It doesn't have to be a duet. I'm pretty sure everyone's ears could use the break."

Camille watches him glance over his shoulder to take in her husband's expression, to inspect it for any type of insight into how he should answer the question. Jay shrugs, "I don't think it'll be well received. Maybe some other time?"

"I think you should do it," Justin calls out from his seat.

This time he didn't look at her husband, this time he looked at his girlfriend, scanning Erin's face on how he should answer. He didn't want to overstep and he definitely didn't want to take the attention off of the birthday boy. Camille knew her husband, he hated attention. And the family knew that, including Erin, which is why with one nudge to the side from her mother, Erin stepped forward, meeting his eyes with a hopeful look, "Please. It would be nice if you sang one of your songs. It doesn't need to be someone else's."

Camille knew he would give in before he even did it. There was no way he could turn her daughter down. And that's another reason he was growing on her.

The first lady waved her assistant over and nodded for her to pass the guitar over to Jay. She followed directions eagerly because if anyone were to ask, she was one of his biggest fans and to hear that the first daughter was dating him and he would be in attendance of the president's party, she basically begged to come into work today.

"Where did that come from?" Erin raised a brow suspiciously.

"Don't worry about it," Camille replied, waving for Jay to take the stage, "Once karaoke was planned and your boyfriend agreed to come, I was determined to get my hands on a guitar. It seems my assistant is a huge fan and volunteered hers, something about him touching it and all this other stuff she said that I can't remember being payment enough for lending it out."

Jay grabs the guitar and feels that surge of confidence shoot through it. That feeling of pure adrenaline he normally gets when performing is mellowed down to a calm demeanor. He feels Erin pat his back and practically push him forward, "Show them how it's done tiger."

Halstead hopped onto the makeshift stage and took a seat on the stool positioned in the middle. Someone must have brought it to the stage while the Voights' were convincing him to perform because it definitely wasn't there before. One leg rests on the bottom rung of the stool while the other remains on the floor. He situates the guitar properly in his grip, assuming that it's tuned and holding the pick to play a few stings to make sure. Jay looks up to see everyone seated, including the White House staff, waiting for the tune that he chooses to play.

He scans the audience, spotting Erin looking like the proud girlfriend while her father appears to be the disapproving parental figure. Is there anything Jay can do to win him over? As of today, he feels as if the answer is no. The most important thing in his life is his music, it's something he can control, create and interpret. His music is intertwined with his soul; it's the one part of him that he's confident about, it brings out a side of him that he's proud of. When he performs, he owns the stage, he rocks the audience and he brings in revenue that affords him the life and the luxuries of a rock star. He accomplished his dreams; he made something of himself. He should be proud, he earned it all.

He can't think of what song to sing. Of the many songs he's written and sung, he can't figure out which one. It has to be good enough to sing in front of the first family; it has to be perfect. This could make or break everything. He already has Camille's approval and he doesn't want to lose that just because he sang a song that was not suitable for their ears. He can't figure out which song to sing, he's trying to run through the many lyrics he's transcribed over the years but he can't decide. He's drawing a blank.

It's a small group of people in comparison to his sold out concerts. Between the Voight family and the staff that's watching, it's a little over 20 people in attendance. It's a tiny crowd, so why does the figurative cat got his tongue? Why aren't any words coming out of his mouth? Why can't he sing? Stage fright? Laryngitis? Jay has no idea the specifics but he's willing to bet it has something to do with the way Hank Voight is eyeing him. He's looking at him like he's the scum of the earth, like he's the enemy, like he knew what he and Erin were up to in the halls. Shit. Did he know? Was it possible that he returned?

"Hey, hey," he breaks out of his reverie to notice Erin in front of him, holding his face and directing his line of sight away from the other eyes and onto hers, "talk to me. What's wrong?"

"It's your dad. I feel like this moment will make or break our relationship."

Erin doesn't want to tell him he's being ridiculous; he has a right to his emotions and his opinions and she knows that instead of trying to convince him he's wrong, she should focus on finding a way to get him through this moment, through whatever song he wants to sing and through the glares her father is sending his way. She'll definitely be having a word with him the next time they're alone. She's 26. Jay is 28. They are both grown, consenting adults but that doesn't seem enough for him. Erin watches as his eyes drift over her shoulder, most likely meeting the gaze of her father, and she presses her palms against his cheeks, pulling his attention back onto her, "Don't think about him. Don't look at him. Look at me."

His eyes connect with hers, "I've been running all my songs in my head to see which one I should sing. I can't decide. I don't want to screw this up."

"Sing what comes to your heart. Sing what's appropriate."

"Top of the world, Shockwave, Echoes or Red," he lists off, giving her the final say.

"Shockwave, you know how much I love that song."

Jay nods repeatedly. He sighs aloud even as Erin leans forward to press her lips against his. No public display of affection was a rule she had given him and yet that seems to slowly be forgotten. She pulls away and gives him one last quick peck before hopping off the stage. He can do this. He got this. Just look at her the whole time. Jay wants to, he needs to, but he couldn't help looking at Voight one last time, watching him look anywhere else to most likely avoid witnessing his daughter kiss her boyfriend.

Halstead clears his throat before reaching forward to bring the microphone stand closer, lowering it and tilting it upwards to adjust it to the best angle to catch his voice. He clears his throat, silently counts to three and begins strumming his fingers over the strings. He plays the beginning notes and counts down until he belts out the first verse of Shockwave, one of the songs on his first album released years ago. He takes her advice and he watches her the entire time. He watches as she smiles through the first verse, closes her eyes to enjoy the chorus, and rocks side to side while seated in her chair during the second verse. As he watches her, his voice singing the chorus for the second time, he starts to think about his next album, the one he's had writer's block on. And as he sings Shockwave and takes in his girlfriend's happiness, he gains the urge to write. He wants to get started on it, he wants to write about her for her. He honestly doesn't know how his band will take it if he wants to put it on their next album, maybe he can compromise, he can write one song for her out of the twelve that will be on the album.

No one else writes the songs, but him. He should have the most say. And out of the twelve songs that he is contracted to write, it wouldn't hurt if one of them was for her.

Jay ends the song, holding the last note and earning a round of applause from the audience. He plays the last string before removing the guitar strap from around him. The clapping continues even as he hops off the makeshift stage, handing the guitar back to Camille's assistant before walking over to Erin. She's standing, clapping like the proud girlfriend she is. He wraps his arms around her small waist, pulling her into him before pressing a bold kiss against her lips. That rush that he loves, the adrenaline that he cherishes is coursing through him.

"That was really good Jay," Camille complimented, walking over to congratulate him, "You impressed me and that's a really hard thing to do."

"She's not lying, Jay," Justin chimed in.

Halstead glanced around to meet Voight's eyes and even though the man offered no compliment, he did nod; his face firm and his head stiff, but it was a nod nonetheless. He watches the man walk over and he feels Erin leave his arms as she approaches her dad, "What did you think?"

"It was good," it looked like it pained him to even offer the compliment, "I'm going to head off to bed. I have to be up early tomorrow since I'm heading out of the country," he turns to face his daughter and pulls her into a hug, "Thank you again for the gift. It means a lot."

"You're welcome dad," she whispers back, rubbing his back reassuringly.

"I love you so much," he tells her and the feeling she felt earlier about wanting to talk with him, about telling him to back off and relax goes away; she couldn't be or stay mad at him, not when he's being so kind, "I love you more than you'll ever know, more than I'll ever be able to express." Voight pulls back from the hug and gently grabs her face, bringing her head forward to brush his lips across her forehead.

"I love you too dad, so much."

Voight gave Jay one final nod before leaving the room. The staff members went back to work, cleaning up the dining room and taking down the small makeshift stage. Jay is accosted by Camille's assistant and is given a marker to sign an autograph on her guitar while Erin is pulled to the side by her mother, "Sweetheart, I'm going to be heading to bed soon too but I just wanted to thank you for coming and let you know that I like him, I think you picked a good guy."

And suddenly Erin's arms are flung around her mother, holding her for dear life as she buried her face in Camille's long brunette hair, "You don't know how much that means to me, mom," she feels her mother's hand cradle the back of her head, "Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me," Camille assures, pressing her lips against the side of her daughter's head, "just please protect your heart. I can tell you both are falling hard and fast for each other and because of that I really want you to be careful." The moment Erin nods; Camille releases her from her hold, squeezing her shoulder one last time before walking out of the room.

Jay hands the guitar and marker back over to Camille's assistant before turning to face Justin as he approached, "I must say, it looks like you're off to a good start," he slams his hand against the rock star's back.

"I don't think it really went that well."

"You got my mom's approval, it went well," Justin retorted, "She's a tough cookie, trust me."

"That's just with you, Jus, you're her baby boy," Erin approaches and pats her hand against her brother's cheek, "Everyone knows, mom is super protective of you and dad is the same of me."

"Are you ready to get out of here?"

Erin looks up to meet his eyes, "Yeah, let's go, today has been a long day."

As Jay fetches her jacket from her chair, she pulls out her phone, sending off a text for her guards to bring the truck around. Halstead carries her jacket over, "I know you have to work the next two days, but after that, you're all mine."

Erin gratefully appreciated Jay as he helped her slip her jacket back on, "Oh yeah, well what exactly did you have in mind?"

"To be honest, I was hoping we could just stay inside."

"I really, truly, and wholeheartedly think that's a good idea. I'm exhausted."

The young couple walks hand in hand, sending waves and smiles to different staff members as they depart the dining room and eventually depart the house. He leads her down the outside stairs just as Dawson pulls the truck up. Before Sorensen could even hop out to open the back door for her, Jay beats him to it, "Milady," he bows properly, earning a small giggle as he helps her inside. He climbs in next.

And the moment they settle in, buckle up and the car pulls out of the white house security gates, Atwater and Roman's eyes are on them, averting between the two as they wait for one of them to speak. Jay doesn't say anything and Erin doesn't pick up on the hint. It takes Atwater clearing his throat and asking, "So how did it go," for them to actually get an answer.

"…as well as expected," Jay yawns.

Dawson nodded, turning the turn signal on as he merged the truck with traffic, "So, Voight didn't come around."

"Wise beyond your years," Erin comments, jokingly rolling her eyes.

"I know that was meant to be sarcastic but I'm taking it as a compliment," he replies from the driver's seat.

At some point during the short ride, they both fall asleep and are woken up by Atwater nudging their shoulders. Neither wanted to get up and if her guards didn't have to go home, Erin would really consider spending the night in the backseat. Unfortunately, their shift ends the second she's in the elevator and is in Capp's capable hands. The couple slides out of the car with only Roman and Atwater following, the other two guards remain in the truck, waiting for the secret service men to drop them off at the elevator before returning to be taken home.

Erin drags her feet, leaning into Jay's side, "I am so exhausted."

"Me too," he throws his arm around her waist, practically holding up her fatigued body.

"And I have to wake up early tomorrow for work."

"Can you call in late?"

She glances up at him just as they enter the building, "You've never met Peter Mills; he's my boss and he's a true workaholic at heart. I was like that once where I hardly took days off."

"And now?"

"Now things have changed," she admits, repeatedly pressing the up button on the elevator in hopes of rushing it along, "I have a reason to take off work now, at first, I didn't."

The second they step into the elevator, Atwater and Roman turn on their heels to leave. Her night guard should be on duty and if he wasn't, the people at the front desk would have alerted them as they walked through the lobby. Erin sent them a wave and a quiet see you early tomorrow, reminding herself once again that she has work, "I wish I can sleep in for the next few days."

"I'll sleep in for the both of us," he presses the number for her floor.

"Gee, thanks."

"That's what I'm here for Erin," he pulls her body even closer against his, "I'll do anything for my girl."

"Anything?"

"…within reason."

She chuckles as the doors open, "Well in that case, forget I asked."

Capp is in the hall, sitting in a lounge chair outside of her door. He nods his head in greeting and returns his attention back to his phone. She approaches her door and withdraws her keys, "Hey Capp, how are you?"

"Better now that' you're back," he smirks.

"That's what I like to hear."

She pushes her door open and is the first to step inside with Jay following closely behind, locking her front door the second he shuts it. Erin hears his footsteps follow her as she drags her feet to her bedroom, kicking her heels off the second she enters, "I can't even think about putting on my pajamas. I'll just sleep in my underwear."

As done the nights he's here and she's wearing a dress, he unzips her without her even having to ask. He helps her undress, keeping his hands behaved as he drags her dress down her body. She's tired; they're both too tired to do anything more tonight. Erin watches him toss her dress over onto her window seat before pulling back the covers on her bed and crawling in. Neither bother to even turn on a light; they're both used to the layout of her bedroom to move around in the darkness. Jay's clothes eventually join hers on the window seat, leaving him crawling into bed only wearing his boxers.

Jay pulls her into his arms, resting his chin above her head as she tucks her face into his chest, "Is it just me or did today feel like it lasted a week?"

"It's definitely not just you," he whispered, finding comfort in the feeling of her warm breath against his chest as she lay against him, "I'm a little bummed I won't have you with me tomorrow. I guess I'll have to figure out something to do while you're gone."

"I have to go into work on time," she reminds but he senses there's more, "but maybe I can get off early if I work extra hard and push up a few meetings. I'll skip lunch that way I can get off a few hours earlier than I normally do. And then I'll be all yours and maybe we can catch a movie or something. I haven't been to the theater in a long time."

"It's a date."

"And what will you do until then?"

"I'm not sure," he lies, "I'm sure I'll find something though."

That wasn't the complete truth. While she's at work, he's planning to put pen to paper and start working on the one song he's had the urge to write since dinner. He's going to work on other songs for the album too, but his main focus would be on the song for her. She'll know about it in time, but as of today, it's too early and nothing is set in stone yet. He wants to write the song, figure out a good melody to it, play it for his band and see what they think. And he knows the way to win them over the most is to have other songs written for the album as well. He'll do whatever it takes to ensure that her song makes it.

And as Erin cuddled up closer and allowed her eyes to droop shut, he presses one last kiss to her forward that feels as if it's cementing his decision. He's going to write a song for her and about her and it's going to be the last track, the final song on their next album.


	18. Guilty Mind

In an isolated corner in her living room, Jay sits with a rented guitar strumming notes until he finds the perfect melody for the one song he was able to write. It's hard to do with only the guitar and not the other assortment of instruments his bandmates play. In the last two days, he had only been able to transcribe one song –On Fire. It's meant to be a fast paced, upbeat, dancing tune which will have the crowd jumping and pumping their fists up and down. It's a good song to rock out to, a song that's not meant for deep reflection but offers the chance to lose yourself, to forget and embrace the here and now. To feel on fire, to be free and to move around loosely with no cares or concerns in the world. It's a song that speaks to him because that's how he feels, that's how he lives. He moves around and does what he wants with no consideration for others around him. If you spend your life asking permission and trying to do things for others approval, are you truly and honestly living _your_ life?

In the center of her living room, Erin sits on the floor, cross-legged with a small wicker basket to her left and three separate piles of wrinkled letters spread out on her right. She had come in from work carrying the basket and once she changed out of her pantsuit, she got to work, reading and separating them into three piles. Two piles are bigger than the other and when Erin throws another letter into one of the larger piles and releases a long sigh, Jay decides to take a break, removing the guitar strap from around his shoulder before walking over, "Is this really necessary?"

He's referring to the fan mail she received and the fact that she honestly goes through them all and reads each and every one. She reaches into the basket and pulls out another envelope, tearing it open with her nail, "It's not but I feel like if people take the time out to write them, I should at least take the time out to read them."

"…but you're planning to respond to them?" He takes a seat beside her, leaning his back against the bottom of her couch.

"Not all of them," she answers, grabbing a letter out of the basket and handing it to him, "Here, you can help me, that way we can get through the process quicker."

"What do I do besides read them?"

The letter that was in her hands she sets down on her lap. Erin points towards one of the piles of opened letters stacked in front of her, "I read them and separate them into three different piles. That one is the pile I'm going to respond to," his brows furrow at how thin it is, "this one," she moves her finger to the next pile, "I won't respond to and that one," she moves her pointer finger once more towards the last stack, "I'm going to report."

"Who do you report it to?"

She nods her head towards her front door, "my guys and then they report it to the head of secret service. It's a long chain of command."

"How do you decide which goes into what pile?"

Erin grins, tossing the letter on her lap over to the right before reaching forward, grabbing a few letters from each pile, "Okay, this letter here is from a ten year old girl in Kansas who looks up to me and wants to be like me when she grows up, I'm responding to this," she sets it back down in its rightful pile, "this one comes from a concerned father who wants to write a letter to my father but knowing that the president may never actually see it, he thought I was his best chance to get a message across. He's concerned about his sick kid and wants changes done to the healthcare system, I'm responding," she tosses that letter back down, "I respond to compliments, well wishes, concerns and worries about the country."

Jay was prepared to ask about the other two piles but she was already geared up to answer, holding up a letter that earned an eye roll from her, "this right here is from a 30 year old guy in Wisconsin and regardless of the fact that we've never met, he sent me a marriage proposal, ring in the envelope and everything, I'm not responding," this catches Jay off guard and it takes everything in him not to take the letter and respond to the guy himself, "this one is from some guy in South Carolina who asked me out on a date, I'm not responding," she tosses both letters back into their rightful pile, "you'd be surprised how many marriage and date proposals I get through the mail. I guess one could argue that being the president's daughter has its perks," he notes the sarcasm in her voice.

"I also receive quite the amount of letters from people who actually push for me to run for the office of the president when I reach the qualifying age. I don't respond to those either."

"Why not?"

Erin turns to face him and releases a large breath of air she's been holding in, watching the strand of hair dangling in front of her face blow around until she stops, "…because I don't want to say anything until I know what I want to do. I honestly don't know if being a politician is the right thing for me. I don't want to lie to them and because I don't know, it's easier to just not answer."

He can read her. She's starting to be like an opened book to him. He picks up on this subject of conversation being her least favorite. And he sees why, he sees the pressure put on her. As the daughter of a president, as his oldest child who is currently practicing law, traveling around the country to give speeches and raise awareness, a woman who regularly donates and attends charity events and who volunteers at shelters, most people assume it's done because she has some ulterior motive. She's doing all of that because of the political future she sees for herself, knowing that if she runs, it could all be used to promote her policies, earn votes for her and it'll definitely strengthen her possible campaign. It's all assumed because a lot of people are guilty of it. Erin isn't. She does it because she wants to help, she wants to make a difference, and she wants to help people like Nadia. Maybe she's even doing it for Nadia.

Erin doesn't want to talk about it. She doesn't want to expand on it. She's only 26. She can't even run until 35. She has time and a lot of it. So instead of focusing on a maybe in her future, she focuses on the letters that are presently in her lap, "And these," she raises a few of the letters in the third pile, "I have to report."

"What do they say?"

"…they're just threats," she shrugs it off. It's no big deal to her because it's normal.

"Threats…" he repeats, reaching over to grab one from the pile, "when are you going to report it? Your guards are right outside; shouldn't you give the letters to them now?"

"They'll get them," she nonchalantly shrugs it all off once again, "it's just a bunch of wackos living in their mom's basement trying to scare me or my parents. It's nothing serious."

"This sounds serious," Jay finds himself setting the letter down he had just skimmed and picking up another, "these aren't just little threats. It's anonymous and that person basically just gave a detailed explanation of how and why they're going to hurt you."

"Just because it's anonymous doesn't mean it's unidentifiable. People are pretty bold when their faces are hidden and their names are unknown. But, trust and believe my guys will identify them. They'll check it out and investigate. I'm not worried."

"…maybe you should be."

It's cute. It's kind of adorable. It's a little annoying. But, she sees where he's coming from. He's worried. She's used to it all and has become desensitized to it. He's new to this, not the fan mail but the threats. Most of his fan mails are girls professing their undying love for him. She wouldn't even be surprised if he received a few marriage proposals in the mail.

"Jay," she turns her upper body to face him, reaching her hand up to rest against the side of his face, "I have been handling this for the last three years. It's no reason to be worried."

"If you let your guard down, they can take advantage of that."

"And that's why I have Atwater, Roman, Dawson and Sorensen."

"Would they lay down their life for you?"

Erin tilts her head in thought, "Yeah they would, but that doesn't mean I'll let them."

"You trust them?"

"…with my life," it comes out in a whisper.

"I still think you should take these more seriously."

"Don't you get fan mail? Haven't you received a letter from an over obsessed fan?"

She expects, or maybe assumes, an answer, but when he shrugs his shoulders, that response catches her off guard. He embarrassingly scratches the back of his neck, "I don't read fan mail."

"What do you do with it then? Is there someone on your staff who reads it for you all?"

"No," and he feels his cheeks burning red, "we uh, we throw it out."

"In the trash?"

"Recycle," he answers as if that makes it better.

"You don't even open them?"

He shakes his head.

And this is where they differ. Here she is, selflessly spending her time after an exhausting day of work to go through mail sent by people who either love her, hate her, or fall somewhere in between while he simply gets letters and tosses them out without even tearing it open. Another reason why Voight may have been right, she's too good for him and everyday he spends with her, he's starting to see it…and maybe even kind of believe it.

And if he didn't know how selfless and understanding she could be, it's now fermented when she gives him a small smile. She isn't mad or upset. She just nods her head slowly and pulls her wicker basket onto her lap, "You probably get way more fan mail than me and you probably get it way more often so I can't fault you for not reading them all, but maybe some of them," she looks at him hopefully as she reaches into the basket, "it'll connect you to your fans. Some share life stories with you, some even send you personal gifts. Yeah, there's a few wackos in the bunch but it makes you appreciate the other letters so much more, here look at this," she searches around the bottom of the basket before withdrawing a little box that had already been open, "a little girl sent me this," she holds up the cheap costume jewelry, "and I know it isn't much to us, it's cheap and fake but that's not the point here, the point here is her letter is in the response pile and she shared with me her story, she's 11 and her dad had lost his job and they were all about to be evicted from their house. She said her dad was losing his confidence, slowly falling into a state of depression until one day he heard me talk. I can't even remember the speech I gave but she says her dad remembers it almost word for word and after that he went out in search of another job and within a month, he found one. She thanked me for saving her family, for helping her dad and that humbles me to my core especially because I don't deserve the thanks or the appreciation, her dad does, her mom too. Her gratitude is misplaced. It's stories like that that reminds me why I do what I do. It's stories like hers that gets me through the politics."

"You are an amazing woman," he whispers, his eyes never leaving hers.

"You're not so bad yourself," she replies, pulling away only to finish sorting through the few remaining letters in the basket, "Now, have I convinced you? It's okay if you say no."

"I'll read a few, but I don't think I'll be able to convince the guys to do the same."

"I'm not interested in the other guys," she shrugs her shoulders, "just you."

Erin wasn't looking at him and he takes advantage of that by watching her, staring into the side of her face, eyes drifting from her furrowed brows to her beauty mark to the dimples in her cheeks. This is dangerous and scary territory he's treading in. He finds himself head over heels for her. It's a feeling he's honestly never felt before for anyone. He didn't want to name it because it would make it real. They've only been dating for two months – _two months_ \- that's a long-term, serious relationship for him, considering his background. This is serious. The guy who had platinum albums, was a known bachelor and bad boy was getting serious about a girl. That same guy who had slept with more women than he's ready to admit has willingly entered into a monogamous relationship.

And that didn't scare him.

Jay pushed himself off the ground and walked barefoot into her bedroom, unzipping his suitcase to withdraw the book she had allowed him to borrow when she came to Chicago. He set it under his arm, situated it between his side and his bicep before stepping out of her room, "It took me a little longer than I expected but I finally finished the book."

She looked up, tossing the last letter into the respond pile before glancing over in his direction to watch him approach. Jay slid her copy of Garrett Frazier's 'Turning a Blind Eye' back onto her book shelf. It was a perfect fit. And once it's back into its rightful place, he sits across from her, peering down as she sat on the floor while he sat carefully on the edge of her coffee table, "And what did you think?"

"It was interesting."

"…just interesting?"

"I'm not good with words like you. I don't really know how to get into it, you know, to talk about it like this is some sort of book club."

Her chuckles release the tension in his shoulders, "To describe it as interesting is a good start," she rose to her feet and took a seat beside him on her coffee table, "now what did you specifically think was interesting about it?"

"Um, maybe the overarching theme about how people pretend not to notice?"

"Maybe…"

"…not maybe."

Erin places her hand onto his knee, "Jay, you are entitled to your opinion. It doesn't matter if we disagree or not. It's your opinion. And with that said, speak confidently about your opinion because if you're not passionate about it, no one else will be either."

"I don't really mind about speaking my opinion, you know, considering I don't really give a shit what other people think," they both chuckle lightly at his words, "it's just my opinions are usually on matters that aren't as serious, like sports, girls, music and television. I haven't really expressed or I guess formed opinions about this type of stuff; it's heavy."

"Yeah, but it's never too late to form one and considering your profession, you're one of the best people to speak out against the _heavy_ stuff," she says, intertwining her fingers with his, "people have a tendency to overlook or silence the voices of the people personally affected by the _heavy_ stuff. And you have a platform to speak on; you should take advantage of that."

"People don't pay me to express my opinion."

"But you're still entitled to one anyway," she reminded him firmly, "and coming from a civil rights attorney who knows a little thing or two about constitutional rights, you have a right to express yours; it's called free speech and no one needs to pay you for it."

"I just got a little confused by the book. I get what he was saying about how turning a blind eye on social justice issues could hurt people. I get a lot of the issues he spoke on, but I just…uh," he sighs, "I honestly don't know what I don't get."

"And there's nothing wrong with that," she brings their intertwined hands up to allow her lips to brush across the back of his hand, "Now I'm going to tell you a story and I don't want your sympathy or your judgment, I just want you to listen as I talk about why I connected with this book. After Nadia died, I came across her body, you know this," he nods, remembering it from that night a week ago, "and every day of Yates' trial I was there, I watched him act innocent, smile at me and try to woo the jury. And the said thing is, for a moment he was winning, I truly thought he was going to get away with what he did to her. He didn't of course, he screwed up during the trial, but I put myself through it all, I disguised myself, blonde wig, makeup and sunglasses and no one was of the wiser. My parents knew, my brother too and they tried to convince me not to go but I had to, I needed some type of closure because I couldn't even have a funeral for her. I immersed myself in that trial, between that and school I didn't really have the time to grieve properly. But," she hesitates, "but, after the trial and when school ended for the summer, I went spiraling down to a dark place that I almost didn't come out of. My parents were living in D.C. at the time, I stayed in Chicago because of school and other things and after I found Nadia, they came back to be with me, and my parents tried to help me out of fear that I'll revert back to my old ways. They tried, not very hard, but they tried nonetheless, but they were more preoccupied with keeping my name out of the press, ensuring that the vice president's daughter had no connections to a former prostitute and drug addict. The thing with politics Jay is that you never get complacent; you always strive for more and think about how your current actions will affect future decisions. My dad already knew he was going to be running for president and if there was a chance that my friendship with her could negatively impact his chance of winning then he would get in front of it, get rid of the problem before there really is a problem," she releases his hand and shifts in her seat to face him, "The only thing about that is while he was drowning in work obligations as the vice president and covering up my connection to Yates' last victim, I kind of got overlooked in the process. I spent nights in bars, I sometimes passed out in clubs, I started using drugs to the point where I walked around with sunglasses on regardless of if it was day or night, sunny, cloudy or rainy. I did it to cope and no one knew."

"What about your guys?"

"I always snuck out. They never even knew I was gone; they just assumed I wanted to be alone because of her death and we weren't as close as we are now. It actually brought us closer though."

"I'm sorry."

She smiled, "Remember, no sympathy. Now my whole summer I spent doing the same routine, I got high, drunk and had a few one night stands. Severide ended up helping me, he tracked my phone and I was passed out in a bar somewhere and he gave me some tough love that I needed to hear. He told me that Nadia wouldn't like this; she wouldn't want me turning out like her, doing the things she did. He said she would be sad, be disappointed in me. And he let me know that at first he was giving me time, watching from the sidelines and not saying anything, but then I got progressively worse and that's when he had to step in."

"And that's why you relate to the book?"

"No one is ever prepared to grieve," she swipes both thumbs under her eyes, "no one is equipped to grieve and no one, I don't care who you are, should have to grieve alone, to be by themselves. Turning a Blind Eye spoke to me because it talked about how purposely overlooking or pretending not to notice something that you know is wrong or something that you know you should do something about can do more harm than good. Ignoring a problem does not make it disappear. It does not mean it's nonexistent. I needed help, it was all a cry for help, but it appeared as my downward spiral wasn't the main concern of my family, it was making sure there was no traceable link between me and Nadia."

His arms enveloped her. It was an awkward hug but they made it work nonetheless. His hand pressed against the back of her head, cradling it as her chin rested upon his shoulder, "It's not that hard to connect to," she whispered, pressing a quiet and gentle kiss to his shoulder, "I think everyone has a story about a time they needed someone to help them, to speak up for them, to hold and guide them but people pretend not to notice. I think you have a story too, whether you remember it or not, I think you have one."

Before he had a chance to think or to respond, there was a knock at her front door. By the look on both of their faces, they had forgotten they ordered takeout. Erin rose to her feet and crossed the room, leaving him in the living room as she went to grab their food. Jay moved from the coffee table to the couch, noticing a framed photo of Erin and Nadia sitting on the end table to his left, "I meant to ask you this the other day, but who is this?" He raises the frame as she carries the bag of food into the kitchen.

"That's Nadia," he noticed that she didn't look up as she pulled each carton of food out of the bag, "that picture was actually taken a few days before she died."

"She looks happy."

Erin grinned, withdrawing the chopsticks from the bag, "She was."

"That probably had a lot to do with you."

"I hope so," a small smile stretches across her face, "I just, I feel bad sometimes. I feel like I'm slowly forgetting her, not the big things like how we met, but things like how she laughed, the sound of her voice, jokes she's told me, some stories that aren't as significant as others and what really pains me is the fact that me and Kelly are the only people who knew how truly good of a person she was. No one knew her like us and no one will ever know."

"If you don't mind," he set the frame back down and rose to his feet, "I would love to hear about her, some experiences you three shared, that way another person can know," he approached her.

Jay took both of Erin's hands in his and brought them up to kiss kindly. She inhaled sharply, closing her eyes and holding in her breath as he leaned forward, placing a kiss, ever so gently on her closed eyelid. There's no intensity to it, only care, protection and kindness. He does the same to her other eye, only this time, lingers the kiss there, "We can do it over dinner. I'm starving and if there's anything I know about you, it's that you're always starving."

She chuckles and swats at his chest, "I hope you ordered extra spring rolls."

"I didn't have to," he replied, pulling the rest of the food out of the bag, "You must order from this place a lot because when I called, they just said Erin Voight's usual and I basically said yeah before adding in my order."

"How many did they give me?" She opens the fridge to grab two beers.

"Um," he counts them up, "six."

"Oh," she grinned, tearing the chopsticks apart, "now you can see why I recommended this place. We have a mutual love for one another."

They both collected their cartons of food and carried them over to her couch. She rarely used her dining room; it was normally reserved for when she had meals with her mom. Other than that, it went untouched. He set his food down onto the coffee table before taking a seat on the floor, "I actually wanted to run something by you…"

"Something like what?" She hands him his beer before taking a seat next to him.

"I just got our concert schedule through e-mail and our first one is in Los Angeles," he used his chopsticks to reach over and try to swipe a spring roll; she rolled her eyes and let him take it, "I wanted to invite you. It'll be next week on a Friday. I know it's late notice but I have to fly out there on Tuesday and I was thinking you can come Friday and leave Sunday?"

"I've honestly never been to California."

"That's surprising," he opens his carton of food, digging the chopsticks in.

"I think maybe I can convince my boss to let me have at least two days off."

He takes a bite of his food, the shrimp mixed with broccoli making the perfect combination, "I hope so. And I promise that you won't have to be hidden in a skybox. You can stand up front and center with Burgess."

"Well in that case I'll definitely be there."

"I'm looking forward to it."

"Me too," she grins before lifting a spring roll with her chopsticks, "When does the road trip part of your tour start?"

He looks up at the ceiling, as if the answer to her question is written above, "Mid-July, I think."

"So you won't be on this side of the country for Independence Day?"

"I might," he admitted, nervously scratching the back of his neck, "it depends on if Will comes through or not."

"On what?"

"Don't laugh."

"I promise," she pulls her knees up to her chest and held her carton of Chinese food closer, picking through her food with her chopsticks, "now don't leave a girl waiting."

"I know that there's always a big show on the fourth of July at the National Mall hosted by the White House," he's still scratching at the back of his neck until she reaches out to stop him, "and I contacted Will because I figured this would be a good opportunity for us. As our manager, Will expressed interest to the head of the committee that hires entertainment, and if we get a spot, then I know we made it, you know? To earn something like that because we're good, because of our own merit and that would just be…I don't even know. It's hard to explain. It's just…only the big names are awarded the chance to perform in the nation's capital at a national landmark in front of the first family, senators, congressmen and basically the entire world."

"I thought you didn't care what my father thought."

"I don't," he tosses another shrimp into his mouth; "it's not about that, it's the principle."

"I get it."

Jay looks down at his food, finding the contents of it to be more comforting than the possibility of looking into her eyes and seeing shock, disbelief or doubt like he has absolutely no chance of actually earning an allotted spot at the Independence Day event. Was he good enough? He's heard some of the big names that have performed in the past but was he on their level? He's huge, he's a millionaire but was he as big as he thought or was his ego inflated?

"Hey," Erin scoots closer, "you're going to get it. I know you will."

And to ensure that he got what he wants, what he deserves, she withdrew her cell from her pocket. He was eating his food again and she used his distraction to her advantage, pulling up her mother's contact number and typing out a quick message

 _Were you able to get Jay's band in the lineup for Independence Day? -EV_

The response came almost immediate; _I'm still working on it. -CV_

 _Do you know when you'll have an answer? -EV_

 _I need a few more days. Paul has to figure out which band on the roster to cancel. Are you sure he wants to do this? We don't want to cancel one performance only for his band not to show. It'll be quite the spectacle if we have a lag in performances on such a historic night, -CV_

 _I'm sure, mom –EV_

 _Alright, then I'll get back to you sometime next week, -CV_

 _Thank you, -EV_

Her mother had sent back a kissing face emoji and all Erin could think of is when did her mother start using emojis? How did her mother even know about them? Erin shuddered at the thought and set her phone face down on the table. It was a surprise and just in case her mother had something else to say she didn't want for him to find out.

"Erin…" for some reason by the way he says her name, she assumes that this wasn't the first time he has called her; his carton is closed and set on the table, "Where'd you go just now?"

"Sorry, I was just daydreaming," she whispered, closing her carton as well; she wasn't full to be honest, but she's recently gotten into the idea of portion control, especially at how often she eats.

"I never got a story about Nadia."

This is how they're going to spend their night, cuddled up in each other's arms, passing along stories. Her tales involving the past with Nadia with the occasional mention of Kelly while his involves his past with his band, stories that earned laughs and some that involved a silent audience. She leans her head against his shoulder, eyes falling to the time shining on her cable box, "It's only a little after five."

He kissed the top of her head, stretching his arm out around her, "The night is young."

"Let's do something fun," His eyebrows shot up suggestively, forcing her to playfully slap his chest, "Not that…at least not right now, I was leaning more towards going out. I honestly haven't been out in a minute."

"We went to the movies yesterday."

"That's different, I meant, like out for drinks. You know dressing up, letting my hair down, dancing, the whole nine yards."

"Well then I know just the place."

She sits up, looking over her shoulder to confusedly glance at him, "You're not even from here and you know a place we can go?"

"I sure do," he sits up, leaning forward quickly to steal a kiss, "Last time my band was here, Rixton dragged me out to a dive bar near the hotel we stayed in. It's basically a hole in the wall; it's pretty disreputable, but it has decent food and a great atmosphere."

Even though neither of them was hungry, he knew by the time they ventured out into the night life and traveled to the bar, her appetite would be back. He rose to his feet and collected their leftovers to put away, keeping his raised eye on her as she flipped her cell phone over and read a message that must have been sent to her phone. It was on silent. Jay shrugged his shoulders and chalked the message up to being work-related before sliding the leftover food into the fridge.

-x-

The first thing that stands out to Erin when she enters the dive bar is the faint smell of cigarette smoke, an overwhelming smell of cheap cologne, stale beer and body odor. Just the smell alone is going to take some getting used to; she hasn't been in a place like this since college. It's safe to say that her standards had changed over the years, whether it is because she's a career woman who earns her own income or because her father is now the president. Maybe it's because her guards didn't feel comfortable bringing her to a place like this –and they still didn't but she and Jay made quite the convincing argument- or because she had to now worry about reporters creating a scandal out of it or the high possibility that someone would sneak a picture of her throwing back a shot and making it some sort of big deal that reporters will throw in her dad's face. _Politics._ People loved to play dirty, but regardless of what it is, she hasn't been to a place like this in a very long time. She was going to enjoy every minute of it.

The second thing that she notices is the fact that the entire inside is dimly lit –and not by choice- because a few of the bulbs in the lights hanging above their heads are either out or haven't even been screwed in. Many lights –actually more than she has time to count- are missing lightbulbs. It just makes her feel like every patron has something to hide. Some of the men purposely chose to sit beneath an overhead light that was out, using it to their advantage to shield their faces. It was a place full of sin: alcohol, drugs and gambling.

Erin doubts anyone comes here with anything actually wholesome in mind. And it kind of has her curious about the man to her left, holding her hand and guiding her towards the bar. How did he find out about a place like this? Why did he even think she –the first daughter, a woman of the law- was going to feel comfortable here? He was brave for sure. A rich guy such as he boldly walked through the congestion. He was a man with money and he didn't mind throwing it around and unfortunately sometimes that made you a target. In a place like this, she wouldn't have been surprised if he had been robbed or pickpocketed.

It's a private bar, not well-known, but only visited by the locals. And once again, she's made to wonder just how the man to her left –or Rixton- found out about this type of place. It's pretty secluded. When Jay said that it was a hole in the wall, he wasn't lying; her guards had driven past this place at least two times before they finally found it. Two of her guards –Sorensen and Roman- stood near the front doors, purposely choosing that spot because it allows them to see every _single_ person in the room. Her other two guards -Atwater and Dawson were off today. Kevin's sister had a soccer game so Erin gave him the entire day free while Dawson had some type of weapons training. She didn't ask too many questions about it; she didn't mind when they had days off, it just meant one less person following her around.

Jay had finally managed to squeeze them through a cloud of cigarette smoke and the cluster of wooden tables crookedly situated in the middle of the floor, "Well if it isn't one of my favorite customers. What can I get for you, Halstead?"

"Favorite customer," Erin repeated, looking between the two men, "I thought you've only been here once with Rixton."

"I'm only his favorite because I spent a pretty penny here," Jay responded before looking back over at the bartender, "Jimmy I'll just take the usual."

"Are you going to introduce me to your little lady friend?" He grabs two glasses and the dish rag draped over his shoulder, using it to wipe the inside of the glasses.

"You don't know who she is," Jay is a bit surprised.

Jimmy shrugs one shoulder, "Should I?"

"No," Erin answers before giving him a chance to reply, "I'm Erin _Lindsay_ ," she stressed her middle name to indicate that it's her last name.

He didn't know what she was doing but he was going to follow her lead.

Jimmy set the glasses down in front of them, "What? You're just another lucky fan of his?"

"She's my girlfriend," Jay answered before her this time. He didn't know how much of the truth she was going to withhold, but that's something he wanted people to know, from the CEOs in corporate offices to the shady dealers in a bar like this.

"Kenny said you weren't the settling down type," Jimmy grabs a bottle of some type of brown liquor from below the bar, "but good for you. When I was a firefighter back in the day," he smirks and moves his eyebrows suggestively, "I had all the girls. I guess if you got it you should use it. These drinks are on the house," he poured them both a decent amount before shoving the stopper back in, "consider it congratulations on meeting the perfect fan to change your ways."

"Are you sure?" Erin glanced around, "I'm good for it. I don't mind paying."

"Well in that case I do accept tips."

And Erin does tip him; she reaches into her pocket, pulling out whatever bill her fingers land on –a five- and dropped it in the tip jar.

The bartender reaches over and claps Jay on the shoulder so hard he releases a breath of air in his lungs with a loud, "oof." Jimmy was grinning from ear to ear, "I like this one. Erin, you know where to find me if whatever it is you two have going on doesn't work out."

"Lay off," Jay chuckles, lifting his drink to take a sip.

"If you two need anything, just call out my name."

"Actually," Erin holds up a finger to signal for him to wait, "do you have a food menu?"

"You're hungry?"

"We ate like five hours ago. I'm not getting anything heavy," she replies sheepishly.

Jimmy doesn't answer her question or reach for a menu. He simply slides his arms across the bar, spreading them open until he's leaning in front of her, face to face, "Do you trust me?"

"I barely know you."

He smirks, tilting his head to the side, "You look familiar. Have you been here before?"

"No," she swallows.

"Hmm," he considers and accepts her answer, before pulling away, "If I can convince you to trust me then I can convince you to take a chance and try my famous nachos."

"Well in that case, I trust you."

Jay smirks, "That's a compliment of the highest order because she's very serious when it comes to her food."

"Now I can't disappoint the lady," he puts two fingers in his mouth and whistle blows, earning the attention of another bartender on break, "watch the bar, I'm going to fix Jay's special lady here a special batch of my famous nachos."

The bartender –Tony- nods and ends his break a few minutes early to come manage the bar. Erin shifts in her seat, turning to face Jay when his hand fell upon her knee, "What?"

"Erin _Lindsay_?"

"It's not that often people don't recognize me, but it does happen on occasion. It just shows who really pays attention to the news and the world of politics because my face is out there a lot, especially when my dad was running. I campaigned, I visited homes, I stepped up and pulled myself out of my comfort zone to win voters over."

"So Erin Lindsay is an alias?"

"Not really, I mean it's my first and middle name. It's just…" she sighs and glances around to make sure no one is close enough to eavesdrop, "when people know who I am or find out who my father is, they have a tendency to treat me differently. The last name Voight carries a lot of weight in this country and it's not that common. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to put two and two together so if I get the opportunity to just be a normal, everyday citizen over the president's daughter then I'll take it."

"Well then Erin Lindsay," he hops off his bar stool and moves behind her, wrapping his arms around her, "it's nice to make your acquaintance."

It didn't take long for Erin to hop off the bar stool she was seated on, choosing to stand in her heels than sit in a chair with a wobbly leg that will give out at any second. She swallows back the rest of her drink before handing it back over to Tony, nodding for him to refill her before passing him a ten and telling him to keep the change.

Just as she's bringing the rim of the glass to her lips, Jimmy returns, proudly setting down a basket of nachos covered in melted, shredded cheese, cooked ground beef, onions, tomatoes, jalapenos, black beans and sour cream. It was an assortment of calories on a plate and before Erin decided to even take a bite, she promised herself to visit the gym in the morning before work. Maybe Jay would come along with her? Maybe she'll portion control this meal too?

Jimmy stays close, watching intently as she bites into one of the nachos. No words are needed. He reads her facial expression which clearly shows she has fallen in love and it wasn't with the man currently behind her, holding her hips. Jimmy grins, slowly backing away to tend to his other more faithful patrons, leaving her to finish off her nachos, "Hey Jimmy," he looks up when one of his regulars call his name, "turn up the music, I can hardly hear it."

He's drunk but Erin is too focused on her nachos to care. The idea of portion controlling her meal goes out of the window. She doesn't care. Jay will still like her. And she will still love herself regardless. The music was turned up and a hard rock song blasted through the speakers. Now this place was starting to get hype with the drunken patrons swaying on their feet, trying to move to the music only for them to spill their drinks and venture to the bar to order more. It was good for business so Jimmy didn't mind.

Erin struggled to compose herself before using her fingers to put another nacho into her mouth. That happy dance people normally did when eating delicious food found its way to her. She couldn't help herself. She loved food and if eating is considered a hobby then it's definitely in her top five. She moved to the music, swaying her hips side to side as his hands pressed against them. While swinging her hips to the beat of the tune, she went in for another scoop, this time lifting the plate and turning in his arms so she could feed him a bite, "I'm going to let you taste."

She brought the nacho to his mouth and without any hesitation he opened it, letting her guide the nacho towards his parted lips; he took in the whole chip, chewed a few times and then swallowed, "You're only going to offer me one?" He licked his lips, watching as she helped herself to another nacho.

Erin arched her brow, eyeing him crossly, "You should have ordered your own."

"Why should I do that," he grabbed one of her chips and tossed it into his mouth, "when I can just steal some of yours?"

"Thief…" she whispered.

"I'll make it up to you," he spoke in a husky voice as he took the plate from her, reaching over her shoulder to set it down onto the bar top, "Let's dance."

As the drinks kept coming, their pockets started to weigh less and less and eventually Jay pulled her out onto a nonexistent dancefloor; they simply swayed to the music in the middle of two wobbly tables. His hands were around her waist while hers were wrapped around his neck. Her warm breath brushed across his neck as they swayed to a song that was going entirely too fast for the slow rock they were doing. No one seemed to be paying attention, everyone too absorbed with getting as drunk as possible or flirting with other women.

His hands slide to her behind and he flushes her body up against his, "Are you having fun?"

"No one recognizes me here," she whispered against his neck; her lips moving against his flesh with each word spoken, "I'm having a really good time."

"I have one more thing in mind," when he pinched her behind and she yelped, he knew she would be more than willing to agree, "Do you want to do something a little risky?"

"What did you have in mind?"

"No one knows you here," he reminded, whispering the words seductively in her ear, "no one is watching us. Your guards went outside for some fresh air. No one is camera ready and no one is sober enough to report anything to anyone. We can take advantage of this."

Jay took one last glance around, ensuring that no one was in fact watching them. Once he was reassured, he left her in the middle of the floor, approaching the bar once again, "Can I have the keys to the bathroom?"

Jimmy raised a brow and his eyes drifted over his favorite customer's shoulder, observing a flustered Erin still swaying to the beat of the music. He doesn't hesitate to grab the keys, tossing them over his shoulder and smirking when Jay caught them with one hand. She was bringing out a part of him that he's never seen before; he never even knew he possessed it and now it's time for him to return the favor. He approached her, grabbing her hand and leading her towards the restroom, "I'm going to show you a little taste of my world."

"Your world," she repeated, smiling devilishly the second the bathroom door shuts behind them, "your world involves taking innocent women to the bathroom for a quickie?"

"None of them were innocent," he hit the lock and jiggled the handle; they were alone and isolated, "and it's always a little fun doing a little public rendezvous."

"Like in the swimming pool?"

"No one was there," he moves towards her, hands reaching out to grab her waist, "but there's a lot of people here, and majority of them are drunk. And drunk people have weak bladders," he turned her around in his arms until her back was pressed against his front, "We're limited on time before one of them is banging on the door," he pushed her over until she was bent down in front of him, "And we have even less time than that if we consider your guards; when they come back into the building and can't find you, they'll tear down this door looking," he pushed the fabric of her skirt up until it was belted around her waist, "Now Erin, if I were you, I'd find something to hold onto."

 **A/N:** The book and the author are completely fictional.


	19. Close to Perfection

"If this is what I have to look forward to when visiting you on tour, then I'll have to do it more often," she struggled to catch her breath, her head falling back against the door of the shower; her hand cradling her forehead as her eyes remain shut tight. Underneath the weight of her legs draped over his shoulders, he shifts his mouth and increases his pace until she falls over the edge. And while this isn't the most comfortable or the safest option, neither is in the right state of mind to care. Both were high on passion from their early afternoon rendezvous in the bed before carrying it over to the shower. She needed to wash off the muck collected from catching a late morning flight. And now she had to clean off the sweat composed from their tryst in his hotel room. She was exhausted, absolutely wiped and her day was far from over.

When the fog of passion clears from her head, her bones fall flat and she takes a minute to collect herself before extricating her legs from where they're swathed over his shoulders.

"Welcome to Los Angeles," Jay stated, licking his lips flirtatiously.

And the moment he's back in an upright position, backing away to stand beneath the stream of the warm shower water, she approaches and doesn't hesitate to pull him towards her for another kiss. One in which he sighs into; it's all-consuming of emotions and feelings he already termed a week ago, back when he was in D.C. witnessing a glimpse of her that most aren't privy to see.

"I think I love this city already," she concedes, returning his smile, "I think it's my third favorite, after D.C. and Chicago of course."

He brings his lips closer to hers, sighing as the stream of water from the shower beats against his back, "I don't want to go but I have to leave soon."

"I know," she whispers, tracing the bottom of his lip with her finger, "but we already knew this. We knew my flight would get in two hours before you had to leave and we made good use of our time together and not to mention, after your concert we'll be back in each other's arms."

"So was this like break a leg sex? You know, before my concert as a way to wish me luck?"

Her arms drew around his broad shoulders, drawing him closer and flushing her naked body up against his, "I don't think you need luck."

"I already have a pretty big ego; you don't need to rub it."

She chuckled, tightening her arms around him, "I would love to continue this conversation, to rub that oversize ego of yours, but you really do have to go. Your brother will be knocking down your hotel room door any minute now."

"I just need another minute." Jay whispered the words into her skin before trailing his lips up her shoulder, "…maybe another few minutes."

With one arm draped around his shoulder, she uses the other to reach behind him and turn off the water. Both of his hands are gripped around her waist, struggling to hold her still as she attempts to step out of the tub, "I said another few minutes."

"I don't want to be responsible for why you're late," she said breathlessly the second he pulls her back, flushing his chest against her back.

"Give me a little credit," his lips find themselves latching back onto her neck, peppering the softest of kisses against her flesh as he speaks, "I can dress pretty quickly. No one would even know that we got a little carried away."

"You can barely keep your hands off of me."

"I missed you. I haven't seen you in a while."

"It's been three days."

"Three long days," he corrected.

"What are you going to do when I leave?" she drew away from him, turning around to step out of the shower; he followed closely, "Who knows when we'll see each other again?"

"I have a few days off in July," he hands her a towel.

"It's mid-June," she wraps the towel around her body and grabs another to wrap around her hair, "July is two weeks away and you can barely keep your hands off me after three days, I'm scared my parents, my guards or my job will file a missing person's report on me if there's a repeat of this next month." Both of them chuckle.

Jay follows her out of the bathroom, their bare feet padding against the tiled floor as they cross the hotel suite, going from one end of the room to the other to reenter the bedroom.

"If all goes to plan, I may be back to DC for the fourth," he unabashedly drops his towel to the ground as he walks over to his opened suitcase, "I expressed interest to Will that I wanted to perform on the National Mall for independence day and he looked into it to see how to go about making that happen so hopefully we're good enough and famous enough to be invited."

"If all it takes is you being good and popular enough then you'll definitely get the gig."

And she knew that for a fact. She had gotten word from her mother an hour or so before her flight that her assistant managed to get a spot open just for District 21 to have ten minutes of performance time. Now all that was left was for Erin to break the good news to him. She just had to figure out how to go about it.

Quietly, the two get dressed. He'll end up changing later on so what he puts on now really doesn't matter. However, for her, what she's putting on now she has every intention of wearing to his concert later. The hot and humid temperature outside dictates what she decides to wear. Erin throws on a white t-shirt, one with his bands logo on it and a pair of light jean shorts that stopped mid-thigh. The white pair of flip-flops she slides her feet into matches the color of the loose t-shirt she's sporting for the day. She carefully unties the towel from around her damp hair and decides in that second to let her hair air dry, "I want you to be honest with me," she runs her hand through her hair a few times before turning around to look at him, "How do I look?"

"Good like always," he answers, earning an exasperated eye roll.

"You're bias," she remarks, digging through her purse and withdrawing her sunglasses; she simply clips them onto the collar of her shirt, "I'll just have to ask Burgess."

He stoops low to tie his shoes, "You honestly think she won't be bias?"

"You're right," she ventures over to the top of his dresser where she sat her earrings down, "I'll just have to take your word on it."

"Trust me on this babe. I wouldn't steer you wrong."

Erin nods in the affirmative, reassuring him with a smile that she did trust him and she truly did believe him. It's just when it comes to the paparazzi, they can be a little brutal. If they were going to say something negative about her, she at least wanted to make it as difficult as possible.

"So, while I'm doing last minute rehearsal, what are you going to be doing?"

A joyful expression crosses her face, "I am actually going to be hanging out with your friends."

"My friends…" he repeats, crossing the bedroom.

"Yes, I'll be with Kim, Violet, Devon and Sarah."

He nods slowly, somewhat cautiously, "Okay," he drags the word out, "and just for future reference Kim is a friend, the other three are employees," he grabs his leather jacket from the bed and shrugs it on, "Violet is the one you met in my penthouse. She's in charge of marketing and advertising. Devon is the event coordinator and Sarah is in charge of hair and makeup."

"…which is why Burgess told me Devon and Sarah will have to leave a little early."

"Yeah, most likely," he replies, bringing his hands up to rest on her hips, "that's why I was a little surprised to hear you hanging out with them. Where are they taking you?"

Jay watches as her eyes flicker towards the ceiling as she takes time to recall the answer to his question, "Oh, we're going to a bar and we're going to the beach. I haven't been back to a bar since last weekend. I really didn't have the time for it once you left. I worked overtime every day just so I would be able to go to your concert."

"I'm glad you could make it."

She nodded eagerly, "I'm so excited about this. You don't even know. And I have to say I think I'm even more excited that I get to be in the audience instead of in a skybox."

"Was the skybox really that bad? I wasn't trying to hide you. I wasn't ashamed or anything."

Erin was about to open her mouth to protest, to reassure him, to ease his mind that she's only teasing and she truly understood why she needed to be in the skybox that day but the sound of someone banging hard on his bedroom door interrupted her.

"Jay," it's Will, "I really hate to disturb you but we really need to head on out of here. Kim is out here too waiting on you, Erin."

Halstead sighed into his girlfriend's drying hair, his demeanor and mood changing almost instantly. She brought her hand up to cradle the back of his head, "Time is going to go by so fast while you're busy having fun you won't even notice I'm not there."

"I absolutely _hate_ this," he admitted, voice low to ensure they didn't hear on the other side of his door, "I know this is one of the last few times we'll really get to spend with each other and since I'm working I won't be able to be with you as much. This sucks. I get you back this morning only to have to leave you again."

"Hey," she cupped his face with her hands, "I've read up on long distance relationships. It's only supposed to get easier."

"I don't believe that. I think saying goodbye to you will always be one of the hardest things I'll ever have to do. I'm used to getting what I want when I want it. And I know we still have today and tomorrow together but Sunday will be the first time where we'll say goodbye to each other without an actual scheduled plan or time where we'll see each other again."

"How about we cross that bridge when we get to it," Erin pulled him in even closer, "I don't want to spend the time we actually have with each other focusing on the time we'll be apart."

Jay curled his finger around a damp strand of her hair, taking in her features as if to permanently imprint her current appearance into his brain. He welcomed the silence, knowing no words right now were big enough to express what he was feeling. He didn't care that his band was literally waiting on the other side of his bedroom door, standing impatiently in the sitting area in his ridiculously large and grand hotel suite; he booked the best only because Erin was coming. Usually he got a simple room, but today was a huge occasion and since she was going to be staying with him until Sunday morning, he wanted nothing but the best for her.

Another knock beats at the door.

"I just want a fucking minute with my girlfriend! Is that too much to ask?"

Erin steps out of his embrace and to his displeasure she walks towards the door and opens it, stepping out to be met with his band and his staff all watching and waiting. Her cheeks darken into a shade of red that Mouse finds absolutely adorable; she waves at each person as she ventures further into the sitting area, collecting her phone off the end table.

"Are you ready to get out of here?" Kim approaches her as she checks her phone's battery.

"Yeah, I just need to send my guards a text. They'll be following."

A small sigh fills the room; it's coming from Violet, "Is that really necessary?"

"Yes," Jay answers before Erin even has the chance; he steps out of the bedroom, holding his wallet and phone in one hand and the strap to her purse in the other, "she's the first daughter Violet, she wouldn't be assigned the protection if she didn't need it."

Halstead hands over her purse and waits patiently for her to throw the soft, light pink strap over her shoulder, allowing the purse to sit at her hip and the strap to cross her chest. She sets her phone inside with her wallet before looking up at his impatient expression, "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it," he steps closer, hinting at what he's expecting –a goodbye kiss.

And she happily obliges the second Jay leans in and crushes his lips against hers in a searing and bruising kiss. The once calm and tamed kiss turns more passionate when tongue is involved but both become too absorbed in each other to care or to remember that they're not alone. At least until Rixton rolls his eyes and clears his throat, "Alright guys, that's enough. Jay, we really should be getting out of here. LA traffic sucks."

The only indication that Jay has heard what Kenny has said is the slight nod of his head. Yet, he doesn't move from his spot; hand holding that of his girlfriend's as he turns to face Kim, "Take care of my girl?"

"She's in good hands," Burgess promised.

With a final parting kiss shared between Jay and Erin, he leaves. Only Erin, Kim, Violet, Sarah and Devon remain standing in the living room with Kim venturing over towards the bar.

"We're not leaving right away?"

Sarah shakes her head, "No, we're about to pregame. It's sort of tradition before a big concert and it perfectly lines up with Kim's birthday so now we have two reasons to celebrate."

"It's your birthday? I wish I had known."

"It was actually yesterday to be more exact," Kim pulls the stopper out of the whiskey bottle, "but we're celebrating tonight anyway."

"How old are you?"

Kim collects enough glasses from the cabinet, "I'm 28. I'm a few months younger than Jay."

"Happy belated birthday," Erin proclaims just as everyone surrounds the bar.

Burgess sets a whiskey glass down in front of each of them and pours two fingers of the brown liquor into each glass, making sure to give herself an extra drop since it is technically in celebration of her birthday. She plugs the cork back into the bottle before raising her own glass, "Let's toast," she waits patiently as everyone else lifts their glass, "to many more years, new friends, new beginnings and to a really good and fun time."

No one was in disagreement as they all came together to clink their glasses before consuming the burning liquor. It's strong; the taste of it is dominating. It's dry; after they swallow their first mouthful it left a parched feeling in their mouth. Erin wasn't a dark liquor type of girl but for the sake of having a good time she wasn't going to complain. Instead she simply carried her glass over to the kitchenette and added a few ice cubes into it to mask and restrain the flavor.

Erin swirled the whiskey in her glass, watching and listening to the clanking of the ice. She took a smaller sip than the first and the chilled beverage was more tolerable than the last. She turned to rejoin her new group of friends when she was met with the vibrant chestnut brown eyes of the band's hair and makeup artist, "I can't believe I haven't introduced myself," she sets her glass down onto the bar, "I'm Sarah and you're Erin," she extends her hand, "It's really nice to meet you. I've heard good things about you."

She shakes the woman's hand and found herself cautiously inquiring about Sarah's last statement, "From what source?"

"Kim and Mouse," she collects her glass and pours herself another heaping of whiskey.

"Well in that case, it's credible."

Sarah chuckled and nodded for the first daughter to follow her back into the living room. She took the reins of the evening, taking charge of introductions. She nodded towards the one male in the room, "This is Devon," she waves for him to stand, "he's the event coordinator. He's the man behind a lot of the operation. Devon finds and books locations for the band's concert. He hires food vendors for each location, staff and the cleanup crew."

"It's nice to meet you," she extends her hand.

"Likewise," he shakes it.

"And this is Violet," and before Sarah is able to give a brief introduction of their marketing and advertising executive, Erin unintentionally cuts her off.

"Oh, we've met," Erin says before taking a swig out of her whiskey.

"We have?" Violet tilts her head and taps her chin, "I don't remember you."

Burgess scoffs in disbelief, "How can you not remember meeting her?"

"I don't know but I don't remember her. Hmm, it probably wasn't that special."

As the group of friends pre-gamed and emptied out two bottles of whiskey, the worries, the stresses and the responsibilities of the day and the days to come are beginning to fade. Erin sat on the couch, cushioned between Sarah and Burgess, nursing her third glass of whiskey when Kim posed an idea, "Hey, how about instead of us going to a bar, we buy a bunch of alcohol and go to the beach? We can relax and chill until it's time to go to the concert."

"Don't forget I'll have to leave a little early," Sarah reminded, clasping her hand around Devon's shoulder, "Oh, and Devon has to come too."

"Actually, I don't. I made sure everything was operating correctly and I told Will to give me a call if there's anything wrong. I'll get there with everyone else and I'll do a walk through to make sure everything goes according to schedule."

"So is it a plan? Is the beach our next destination?"

Erin nods eagerly; there's a hint of tipsiness in her movement but she tries to mask it. She slams her empty glass down only for Violet to grab the nearly finished fourth bottle and pour her three fingers worth of whiskey. Erin lifts the glass and cradles it in the palm of her hand, staring down at the amber liquid as she patiently waits for the buzzed feeling to subside, "Are you really equipped to make that decision? I thought you had guards you had to consider."

"Nope," Erin laughed nervously, "not really. I just have to let them know; I don't need permission. They're my protection, not my parents."

"Typical," Violet muttered into her glass.

"Alright," Burgess hops to her feet, stretching her arms above her head, "the sun will be going down soon and if we want to buy alcohol and get to the beach in time to enjoy it before the concert we better get a move on it. Devon, you're the designated driver."

"Why me?"

"…because you didn't even finish your first glass of whiskey. You had one sip. You're the sober one out of all of us. And I doubt you'll drink anymore tonight."

Devon doesn't put up any more of an argument. It was the truth. Sarah would be leaving within an hour or two, Erin was already tipsy, and Burgess and Violet were slowly but surely following along. He was sober. He collected the rental keys from Kim and nodded for them to follow him out of the door. Erin is trailing behind, sending out a text to her guards to meet in the parking garage. They had been lounging in the hotel restaurant, having a late lunch until they were sent Erin's itinerary for the day. The second Atwater texts her back, she pockets her phone, loops her arm through Kim's and leans her head against her shoulder before joining back into the conversation.

-x-

By the time they arrive to the beach, two things had changed. Erin has now arrived to a level of tipsiness that was closely bordering on to drunkenness. And Violet was full on drunk to a level where she allowed her personal thoughts and feelings to come out without any regard for the person they were about with Devon serving as a listening board to fill in and add to her comments. The only difference is his personal remarks were said sober. And both were made about the first daughter with her a few feet away, clearly close enough to hear everything.

"Want another?" Violet digs around the bag and pulls out a beer bottle. She tosses it towards Erin and laughs when the cold glass bottle slips through her fingers.

Erin walks towards the water, stepping out of her flip-flops to allow her toes to seep into the cool sand. It's getting dark outside. And that only makes the water cold. She opens her bottle of beer up and takes a swig, drowning out the sounds of the obnoxious laugher reverberating from her boyfriend's staff. It seems the alcohol gave Violet the liquor confidence she needed to talk about how she truly felt about Erin –not as the first daughter, but as a career woman and girlfriend to the band's leading man. Devon, on the other hand, didn't need the added effect of liquor; it seems he was happy to oblige in the conversation with Violet without it.

She ignored the chatter; she was honestly used to it all.

Instead, she ventured closer to the water and sighed in relief when the cool water hit her feet, soaking her toes into the sand. Burgess disappeared at some point to use the bathroom and to ensure her friend's safety, she sent Sorensen –with a little complaint from her guards- to escort her. It was getting dark with each passing second and Burgess was a little tipsy; she didn't want anything happening to her.

Erin brings the bottle up to her lips to take another swig as the breeze blows through her now dry hair. Her stance wobbles and in her peripheral she could see her guards posted up. No one was on the beach, or at least in their vicinity, so the chance of someone unknown approaching her was slim to none. Her guards stood at a distance, shades on and covering their eyes even though there was no sun out, with earpieces in their ears to communicate to each other about her whereabouts and any sort of movement she makes.

By the time Burgess returns, she had finished her beer and Violet had happily pulled open the cork of a bottle of red wine for her. She was wasted. That seemed to be the final push that shoved her towards a full state of intoxication. Her eyelids flutter closed as she inhales the scent of the salty breeze. Erin brings the bottle to her lips and she takes a long swig, "Did you want some?"

She could hear Kim approach her from behind.

"I'm good," Burgess walks closer, "are you?"

Each wave overlaps another and she struggles with the faint feeling of dizziness. It's nauseating. Her lips curve upwards, "I'm better than good actually," her words are barely heard over the sound of the ocean waves, "I have very little down time to just," she pauses to consider her next words, "let go if you know what I mean."

"You're intoxicated."

Erin shrugs and only responds to that by bringing the bottle of wine back to her lips.

She thrusts the half-full bottle of wine into Kim's hands and sighs, "I can take care of myself," she turns to walk away, only the abrupt movement sends her head spiraling and offsets her balance. Her knees land in the water and her palms catch in the sand, "It's okay, I'm okay," she chuckles the second Kim and her guards run up to her side, "the ground caught my fall."

"I think it's time for us to get out of here," it's Roman who voices what everyone is thinking.

"Yeah," Kim lifts the bottle out of the water; it still held alcohol but it was most likely mixed in with salt water, "let's get back to the hotel. We need to get you as sober as possible. Your boyfriend is going to kill me if we show up with you drunk out of your mind."

"Trust me, I'm fine."

Atwater and Dawson pull her back to her feet and carefully wrap their arms around her to support most of her weight. Erin rubs the back of her hand against her forehead as her guards lead her out of the water and up the sand, back towards Violet and Devon. Sarah had left at some point to head to the arena where the concert is to be held. Erin looks over her shoulder to see Burgess carrying the wine bottle in one hand and her flip-flops in another. She glanced down, smiling at her bare feet until the sight of blood caught her attention, "Uh oh."

All of their eyes follow her line of sight and fall upon her knee. There's a cut; it isn't deep or serious, but the skin is torn and there's a little blood trailing out of it. It's a cut that can be managed simply by wiping up the blood and applying a Band-Aid, but Kim couldn't have her of all people getting hurt on her watch.

"How much has she had?"

"Enough," Violet answers with a shrug.

"I can't have her showing up to his concert like this," Kim kicks through the sand on her way to the shopping bag; she withdraws a water bottle, "Here Erin, start drinking this up."

She raised her hand with less coordination than expected and grasped the bottle, "Thanks," Erin swallows half of the contents, "but Kim I'm going to that concert. I didn't fly all this way not to go. I'll just chug down as many bottles of water that it'll take."

"Okay this is the plan," Kim asserts, shoving the opened wine bottle into Devon's hands, "you two are going to the concert. We'll meet you there later. And don't tell anyone how much alcohol we bought and especially don't tell anyone how much she had to drink."

Erin finishes off the water bottle and hands it over to Kim only to sigh begrudgingly when she's passed another. She shimmies herself out of her guards arms in order to help her friend collect their things as Violet and Devon walk off. She collects her sandals as her guards collect their trash and bags of alcohol, "What are we going to do to pass the time until the concert?"

"We're going to grab you some food that's really high in carbs, go back to the hotel, splash some water on your face and see where that gets us."

And that method seems to be the best option and the most effective. If the flush on Erin's face was any indication, she was back to tipsy level. She could fake it. She's spent years perfecting the ability to blend in. As she stands nude in the bathroom, one hand on the nearest wall as Kim adjusts the temperature of the water before helping her into the shower. The cool stream of water beat against her skin and shocked her into a wakefulness that straightened her spine. She didn't have time for another shower; this was just simply to wash off the beach residue, the stench of alcohol emitted from her pores and loosen her muscles. While a cool, warm shower does not suddenly sober someone up or remove the alcohol from their body, it does manage to alert her, to make her more aware of herself and her surroundings.

"I feel like I've been standing for hours. Thanks," Erin turns off the water and receives the towel that Kim hands her, "my legs feel like noodles."

"You'll get to sit at the concert."

Erin brushed her hand through her dry hair and departed from the bathroom. She could hear Kim following behind her as she crossed the suite, taking the long trek from the suite bathroom to the master bedroom. This place was unnecessarily huge. He was trying to impress her even though he fully knew that she didn't get impressed by splurging money on expensive things. Erin walks into the bedroom and notices an outfit laid out on the bed for her, "Some role model I am, huh?"

"This has only made me respect you even more."

She drops her towel, completely unashamed and unafraid to get naked, "Why?"

"It just shows you're human," Kim answers, venturing over towards the end table to grab a first aid kit, "so what you had a few too many drinks? Hasn't everyone? You're 26. You're an adult, a grown woman. It wouldn't be right of me to claim you as a role model if I don't accept your faults just as much as I accept your merits."

"Thank you," Erin genuinely whispers, her movements paused after putting on her underclothes, "…that really means a lot."

Burgess waits until Erin slides into dark jean shorts that were shorter than what she was truly comfortable with but her outfit choices were limited. She didn't pack much. And once she buttoned the jeans, Kim withdrew a Band-Aid from the kit to hand to her, "You don't have many friends."

"Is that a question?"

"…more of an observation."

Erin chuckles and uses the adhesive to cover her scratch, "I'm more of a quality type of girl than a quantity. I have enough friends; they just don't live close enough."

"Well I consider myself your friend."

"I consider you a friend too," Erin puts the concert t-shirt back on. She purposely packed this to wear to the concert. She refused to show up without it on.

Erin pulled her hair up into a messy pony-tail as she stepped back into her flip-flops from earlier. Her legs still felt like noodles but the buzzed feeling in her head masked it. She walked over to the dresser and grasped onto it, "I can't remember the last time I drank that much. I'm usually much better at handling my alcohol."

"Well you drank on an empty stomach," Kim reminded, watching Erin nod along in agreement, "and not to mention while I was in the bathroom, Violet and Devon were practically pouring alcohol down your throat. What was up with that?"

"I'm honestly not even sure, but I don't think your friends like me that much."

"Violet's just jealous because you're dating Halstead and Devon has always had a stick up his ass. Don't let them get to you. Their opinions don't matter to Jay so you're fine on that end."

"Good to know," Erin clips her hoop earrings into her ears, "Now, I'm ready."

"Are you sure?"

Erin takes a step back and opens her arms up to twirl around slowly, "I thought I was, why, do I not look okay?"

"You look fine," Burgess quickly amends, "it's just that you're slightly intoxicated and it's going to be paparazzi there, the press too and not to mention hundreds of fans all with access to cameras and the internet. And what's posted on the internet last forever."

"I look drunk?"

"Your eyes are a little dilated."

She grabs her sunglasses off the bed and puts them on, "Problem solved."

"What about your legs? You said they feel like noodles."

"And you reminded me that it'll be seats."

"What about your guards? Your safety?"

"I'll be fine," Erin smirks, brows creasing in confusion, "it's going to be a lot of security at the arena. Sorensen has already spoken with the location's head of security and my guards are going to be posted up in my vicinity. They'll be out of sight but close enough to intervene if shit hits the fan," Erin grabs her purse and throws it around her shoulder, "Burgess, I appreciate your concern but my guys have this all figured out. This isn't their first rodeo. I didn't fly all the way across the country to stay in a hotel room, order takeout and hide from the public. I came for the concert so I'm going to the concert."

Burgess moves to stand in front of the door, blocking Erin's access to the rest of the suite. She needed to grab her phone off the charger in the sitting area. They were already a little behind schedule with their unplanned stop and shower and now Kim was prolonging their stop even longer.

"And what about Jay?" She stands erect, arms crossed over her chest as if she's made a point.

"What about him?"

"You can barely stand in place without wobbling. Your eyes are dilated. Your face is flushed. Your breath smells like whiskey. He's going to know."

"I've been drinking with Jay before."

"Yes, you've been drinking _with_ Jay. He's a little protective of you. Says you had a hard life so he finds it a natural instinct to protect you. He won't be too happy."

"…with you," Erin fills in Kim's afterthought, "you're worried about what he'll say to you? I'm a big girl Kimberly. He knows that. I'm of age to drink and no one forced me. I can handle Jay."

"You're close to perfection to him."

"I didn't ask to be," she argued, "Look," Erin clasp her hands together in a prayer-like hold, "I get that Jay asked for you to watch out for me. I truly do, but Kim, I'm 26. I can make my own decisions and if my decisions lead to a mistake, well that's my mistake to make and learn from. I get that he has me on a pedestal, you do too, my parents, majority of America, but that's not my burden to bear so if you all get disappointed because I'm human, I'm in my mid-twenties and I don't live up to the expectations you all place on me…well that's not really my problem."

And with that, Erin carefully pushed her to the side, gathered herself before venturing out into the sitting room to grab her phone. Within the next ten minutes, they met with her guards and were out of the door to head off to his concert.

-x-

It started ten minutes ago and the one person he wanted to see the most wasn't here. He had the perfect view to her seat and it was empty. Kim's was too. It was in the front row, roped off and protected from the remainder of the crowd. It was the best he could do to merge her with his fans considering her position and her safety.

Halstead was willing to wait until she arrived, but according to his brother, the show must go on.

Violet and Devon had said something about Erin having too much to drink. He didn't know whether to believe it or not since he knew Burgess was looking out for her. Kim had that motherly aura about her and since she probably loved Erin as much as him he knew she wouldn't allow his girlfriend to get hurt or into any trouble.

Throughout the first song, he looks out for her. His energy was lacking the normal upbeat performance that riveted the audience. He wasn't grabbing onto hands, kissing palms, welcoming the tossing of their undergarments or anything his usual concerts possessed because his eyes were continually drawn towards her empty seat. It was divided between her seat and Ruzek; he found himself occasionally tossing a glance over his shoulder to question his best friend with a readable stare. But, he didn't know anything either.

It was the middle of their second song when she arrives. His eyes narrow in on Kim's hand holding Erin's arm and the other resting on the small of her back as she guides her towards her assigned seat. His girlfriend is wearing sunglasses. She normally teased him for wearing them indoors yet here she is sporting her own pair. He sees a Band-Aid on her knee covering a cut that he was pretty positive wasn't there when he left her. He was relieved to see both of them safe and sound but he was still curious about what held them.

Jay gets more into the song, giving his fans a well-deserved performance that sends sweat beads to his forehead. A fan throws their bra onto the stage and he gives her a wink before drawing his eyes back towards his girlfriend. Now she was up close and personal. Everyone was standing up, but she was the only one sitting down. When she finally did rise to her feet, she stumbled until grabbing onto Kim's arm for balance. Eventually she started rocking to the tune, swaying her hips side to side to the beat as he hyped up his performance.

His eyes drag towards Kim who was more focused on Erin than the actual concert. Her brows were knitted and once she looked up to give him eye contact, he could tell she was nervous. He read her lips; she mouthed 'I'm sorry.' For what? He didn't know but when he looks back to his girlfriend he gets an answer. She can barely stand. She's shielding her eyes. And not to mention Violet and Devon practically gave him a heads up about Erin's condition. She was drunk. And Kim was apologizing because she didn't monitor her; she didn't watch out for her like she promised him she would.

He hears Erin shout 'woo.'

And he turns away from her, focusing on his performance and distracting himself with the cheers and the energy coming from his fans. A pair of panties had joined the bra on the stage. Whether it came from the same person or not, he didn't know. He moves to the edge of the stage, microphone in hand as he belts out a note, reaching into the crowd to touch their hands and smiling when they practically swoon in front of him.

He glances over at Erin again; this time she's dancing. Her brunette hair is pulled out of the messy ponytail and curtains around her face. Her sunglasses are off as she waves her hand in the air, dancing to the beat and taking in the lyrics. He adds a few unnecessary notes that were definitely not included on the actual song, but who cares? It's a concert. If they wanted the actual song then they could listen to it on the album.

Soon the song ends, and he gets through the next four in record time before intermission is called. No words are needed when he sends Kim a look that requests for her and Erin's attendance backstage.

Jay is handed a cold, wet towel to pat against his forehead the second he's backstage. He watches his bandmates flop down onto the worn, leather couches but all he can seem to do is pace around impatiently. He's never cared for someone this strongly before. These emotions; they're all new to him. Foreign, or at least in this magnitude they are. He has this overpowering need to protect her, to keep her safe, out of harm's way and away from the judgmental eyes of the public. He loves her. He truly does and that scares the shit out of him. To fall for someone this fast is only seen in storybooks or romantic movies.

"Babe, you were great," her voice sounded so airy, as if she had just finished running when she'd done nothing more than sway to the beat of his music.

His hand comes up to cup her cheek and his thumb gently caresses the skin beneath her eye, urging her head to tilt upwards so he could kiss her. The kiss ends just as soon as it began and all that's left is them resting their foreheads against each other. His sweaty one doesn't bother her one bit; she's too focused on his eyes, boring into her soul and every fiber of her being.

She whispers just under the slightest breath, "I'm sorry we were late. I'm sorry if I ruined all of this by drinking more than I should but I tried every myth in the book to sober myself up as much as possible but it's easier said than done."

"I'm not mad at you," he brushes his lips against hers, "I could never be mad at you."

It's hard for him to be mad at her. Just by looking into her eyes, any feeling of anger would suddenly disappear. He hopes it'll always be like that.

"I had every intention of being on time."

"I know you did," his lips press against her forehead; he just couldn't keep his hands off of her, "I would understand if you wanted to go back to the suite to lay down."

She shakes her head, "No, I'm going to tell you just like I told Burgess; I didn't come to California to sleep, I came to see you perform and that's what I will do. I'm fine, babe. Trust me, this doesn't come close to the amount I drank back in college."

"I'm going to get you some water though because it definitely wouldn't hurt."

Jay walks over to the refreshments table and digs into the cooler to withdraw as many water bottles as he's able to hold. It may be excessive, but she'll definitely thank him in the morning. He purposely chose to avoid Burgess; he knew she wasn't at fault but he still was frustrated with her. Erin had a tough life and while he knew she was not a child who needed his protection, he still felt the need to watch her back. Always. And that won't change with age or status.

"Are you avoiding me?" Burgess approaches him.

"I was trying to," he admitted, shrugging his shoulders in nonchalance, "that is until you approached me. What can I do for you?"

"Erin's an adult."

"That, I'm well aware of."

"And I didn't force her to drink."

"Well, you surely didn't stop her," he maneuvered around her, collecting a bag of chips to also hand over to Erin.

"I cut her off once I knew she had too much."

"What happened to her knee?" He had noticed it but he forgot to comment on it until now.

"She fell. It's just a scratch. It bled a little but nothing life threatening."

"Kim…"

"Jay, she's fine. She's a big girl. She can live a little and get drunk and be reckless if she wants."

"Kim," he turned to face her, balancing four water bottles in his arms and a bag of chips, "you were careless. I asked you to do one little thing for me. Just _one_. And that was to watch out for her. Erin's had a tough life. She's the president's daughter for goodness sake. Her image is on the line. Her career. Everything she built and all of that could have went to hell if someone with a camera phone took a picture of her drinking and intoxicated. She's not like me. She's not reckless; she doesn't have the bad reputation. And despite what everyone is saying I don't want to lead her down that route, I want to cherish her and all of the positive things about her because the second she turns out like me will be the second she isn't the woman I'm falling in love with," Burgess catches it but he's too heated to notice, "America already doesn't like me with her. I just got her mother to like me and her dad…well he's another story, but if shit hits the fan while she's out visiting me, I'll never hear the end of it. I'll never get his approval."

All of that Kim honestly didn't know. This was way more than Jay just being an overprotective boyfriend. This was the love, the care, the concern, and everything in between that he felt being reflected in his words, his mood and his decisions. He was falling in love with her. And he didn't want her image to be impacted because of that. If she does anything out of line, the blame will be placed on either him or her father, depending on who is reporting the news. If it's celebrity gossip and entertainment, they'll put the fault on him, saying if she hadn't met him she would still be America's sweetheart. And if it's the local and international news relating to politics, they'll use it to reflect on her father, to imply that she's making these decisions because she has daddy issues. She's trying to act out or some other type of shit like that. It's never simple when it comes to the life of a celebrity whether because you're in it or you're related to someone that is.

"I'm sorry."

Jay just nods, accepting her apology before backing away. He approaches his girlfriend and holds out the items in his arms, "Here, I want you to drink up."

"Isn't this a little excessive?" She chuckles, taking the water bottle from his arms.

He moves to set the remainder down beside an empty chair, "No, not when it comes to you."

"You do know that I can take care of myself," just as she speaks and moves to approach him, she stumbles and smiles embarrassingly. Her stagger only contradicting her words since his hands came out to steady her. One hand had landed on her hip but the other held her arm.

"I know," he notices Burgess watching them in his peripheral; "I was just trying to protect you."

"That's what I have my guys for," she nods her head over towards them.

"None of them are your boyfriend though, I am," he pauses to nod his head towards the unopened water bottle in her hands; he only continues to talk the second she takes a sip, "It should be me protecting you and keeping you safe."

"That's literally in their job description babe," she chuckled, screwing the cap back on, "they get paid to do that."

"I'm willing to do it for free."

"…well that's sweet of you."

Erin hugs him and he hugs her back when she notices Violet watching in envy; Erin makes eye contact with her and smiles before turning her head and pressing a kiss to his sweaty neck, "I can't wait to get out of here."

He smirks and lowers his voice, "My concert that boring?"

"No, but watching you perform all up close and personal is definitely a _huge_ turn on."

Jay draws his head back and looks down at her, "You're drunk," he chuckles, taking her hand and leading her over to the couch; the two flop down upon it.

He brought his free arm up to rest across the back of Erin's seat, his fingers playing with the end strands of her hair. She turned into his sweaty embrace, resting her head against his warm chest, "I'm only slightly tipsy," she corrected, "and slightly being the operative word."

"By the time my show is over you'll be half asleep and I'll be right along there with you," he patted her thigh, hinting for her to sit up, "but I promise to make it up to you tomorrow."

"I'll take you for your word."

"Guys, prep to go back out in a minute," the warning call is given by Will.

Jay rose to his feet as a response and pulled Erin up with him afterwards. For good luck, he wrapped his arms around her and sealed his lips against hers, practically ravaging her mouth in front of all who dared to watch. Everyone should know how he is at this point and Jay didn't care. Everyone should know that about him.

Erin was released from his arms and her eyes found Violet's once again. She smiled at her and sent his marketing and advertising executive a small wave before turning to collect three of the water bottles he had given her. Burgess and her guards directed her out of the backroom the second Jay collects another cool rag to wipe at his forehead. He grabs the one water bottle she left behind and chugs down half of its contents before handing it over to Violet and following his band back onto the stage.

He's hyped. He's ready for the show to go on. And now that he knows his girl is feeling good, he is in an even better mood. The undergarments that were thrown onto the stage earlier are now gone. At some point during intermission, one of their staff must have come to retrieve them.

As the band walks back onto the stage, the crowd is cheering. He approaches the microphone and collects his electric guitar on the way, strapping it around himself in preparation for the next song. His bandmates are still prepping for the next song so he takes the time to look out into the crowd. There's still cheering and shouting and stomping and he notices a few of his fans eagerly waving at Erin as she and Burgess make their way back to their seats. He chuckles when he watches her wave back at them, even while holding three water bottles in her arms.

Ruzek taps his drumsticks together as a sign that they're ready. With one final glance taking in the whole crowd and one lingering look on Erin, Jay sends her a wink just before jumping into the final round of their songs.

 **Happy New Year!**


	20. Into My Heart

Erin would call what she feels the second she wakes up in the morning a blessing. She's been hungover plenty times before to know what her body is capable of doing to her the morning after a drinking binge. Well, technically she didn't binge drink yesterday. She had a few glasses of whiskey, a few bottles of beer and half a bottle of wine –scratch that, she did binge drink all of that in the span of two to three hours. And to top it off, she did it on an empty stomach. She should be feeling worse, she would have been feeling worse if Burgess didn't cut her off and feed her and if Halstead didn't practically shove water bottle after water bottle into her arms.

She knows the feeling of a hangover, one so extreme that she was tempted to check herself into the hospital to make sure it was actually a hangover and not something much worse. Don't get her wrong, her head still hurts and her mouth and throat are extremely dry but she's not puking her guts out, she's not dizzy, her heart isn't racing and her breathing is normal.

Erin felt Jay turn over in the bed, pulling the covers with him as he shifted onto his side, turning his body to face her. He was awake. She wasn't ready to wake up yet. She hoped she could sleep her hangover off. That would be the perfect way to start her day. That, however, wasn't in the cards the second his finger began to trace along the side of her face, coaxing her to open her eyes, "Please, be quiet," she whispers; her voice hoarser than usual, "I can hear you blinking."

Jay chuckled, sweeping a few tangled strands of her hair behind her ear. That did the job in opening her eyes and fully waking her up. Her eyes struggled to cope with the sunlight bursting through the opened curtains. She had meant to close those last night, but they had gotten home so late, the first thing on her mind was sleep. Her brain was using this time to recover from her night of drinking. Her mouth was dry and her cracked lips hinted towards dehydration setting in. The sun seemed to only shine brighter forcing her to lift the duvet and curl under it, protectively shielding her eyes from the overpowering ray of morning light.

Eventually he joined her beneath the covers, draping his arm over her waist and grinning the second she curled into his side, "I can't believe you leave tomorrow morning." It feels like she just got here. Technically, she came in yesterday and she was already leaving soon.

"I pushed my flight back a few hours," she admitted, laying her head against the center of his chest, "So now I technically leave tomorrow night."

"…a few more hours, it's something," he grinned.

Before one or both of them could say anything, her phone pinged once, twice, a third, a fourth and so on alerting her to the incoming messages –text, email and everything far and in between. She made no move towards it. She might have to stay away from all forms of social media out of fear of what she'll find. She hoped, she prayed, she crossed her fingers and silently begged that she didn't do anything that she'll regret. It's not just her father's image and reelection on the line, her job could be affected too. She couldn't be out traipsing in the night, living on the wild side as if her image didn't impact her career and her clients. They were one in the same. She represented the law firm she worked for both on and off hours. Please, let her not have done something tremendously stupid and childish.

"Are you going to get that?"

Erin shakes her head, "Don't want to."

"It could be important."

"…or it could not."

Jay tossed the covers off, blinding them both with the unyielding sunlight bursting through the large, bay windows. She groaned. She literally whined. She rolled over to her other side, feeling a slight ache in her knee. Erin had forgotten she fell and while the cut was minor and small, the bruise the impact left behind needed nursing. She sat up and swung her bare feet to the carpet, "I really didn't want to get out of bed today but you seem determined to make that happen."

"We're limited on time," he reached over to grab his cell from the end table, "we have to make the most of it. And besides, my concert was successful and you were a hot topic there."

Her hand pressed against the front of her face, "Why? Did I do something embarrassing?"

"No," he sighed, stretching his arms above his head, "and even if you tried to, I wouldn't have let you. Burgess wouldn't have either."

That seemed to have given her the push she needed to check her phone. She scrolled through her work emails –she'll pay attention to those when she's back in DC. She skipped the twitter mentions, the friend requests from strangers on Facebook and the comments left under her photos on Instagram in order to respond to the text messages she had listed.

 _Sweetie, I know you're probably having a blast in California, but we really need Jay's RSVP for his band's performance on the fourth, -CV_

Erin had forgotten about that. It had completely slipped from her mind that her mother pulled it off. She managed to work her magic –with help from her assistant- to guarantee Jay's band an allotted time on the stage for Independence Day. Erin glanced over her shoulder to see him responding to his own set of text messages before she replied, _I know mom; I'm telling him tomorrow. I know how excited he is about the prospect so I know he'll agree. You might as well put in his RSVP for him, -EV._

She moved along to her next set of messages. There was one from Justin that truly didn't need a response. It was a photo of him in her condo; he was comfortably rested on her couch, eating her food and watching television. A short message was typed below the photo.

 _Come back, -JV_

Her eyes rolled; _Tomorrow, and make sure you leave my place how you found it. The last thing I need for you to do is have my place turn out like yours, -EV_

She moved along to her next message; it was actually a couple and they were all from Annie. It was her asking, practically begging through text for Erin to loan her enough money to pay her rent. She was five month, _five fucking months_ , behind on her rent and she chose today, the day she knew Erin would be in a good mood to ask for the money. Annie even used the term loan as if she intended to pay it back. Erin knew herself; she knew she would end up depositing the money into her friend's account but she couldn't help but to be frustrated. She could have asked her in person; they saw each other not that long ago, both in DC and in Chicago. She had time and she had the opportunity and now she chose to ask her –and through _text message_.

Erin had no intention of responding right away. She waited five months to tell her; she could wait for an answer. She left her messages with Annie and went to her last –and possibly her favorite- person's unread messages –Kelly. He sent her a few memes he saw online that someone created from a photo taken of her favorite flat and unemotional facial expression. It earned a few chuckles as she scrolled through them all. He sent her a few updates on his schedule, trying to work out the kinks on when he could visit again. And she needs to do the same. She missed him. A lot. A whole lot.

 _I hate to say this but I'm all booked up for July. I'm going to start looking into August to see if I have any free time. Sorry, -KS_

She chuckled. _Don't apologize. You're the mayor, Severide. I don't have to work the job to know that keeps you busy. We'll figure something out, -EV_

She didn't immediately sit her phone back down. She kept it on her lap, resting between the bridge between her two thighs as the three dots floated across the screen indicating that he was typing a response, _I'll make it up to you with extra spring rolls, -KS_

 _The way to my heart; I love you, -EV_

 _I love you too, -KS_

A smile graces her lips; it's a smile that Jay notices as he sets his phone down and crawls across the bed towards her, "What's the source of that smile?"

"Severide," she whispers, setting her phone down beside her.

"Hmm," he remarks after his eyes briefly scanned her conversation with him.

"Hmm?" she repeats, standing up from the bed.

Erin turned around to face him as he swung his legs over the edge to place his feet on the ground. He reached for her hand and pulled her towards him, spreading his legs to bring her flush against his body, "You two are really close."

"He's my closest friend," she admitted, wrapping her arms around him when he leaned his head forward, laying his face against her tank top, "we're extremely close."

"Good," his word was muffled by the fabric of her pajama shirt.

Her fingers sifted through his hair, "Good?"

"I'm not Rixton, babe," he reminded, earning the brush of her lips against his forehead, "I do think women and men can be friends. And I also think you deserve a good friend, someone that'll always be in your corner. If you say you don't have feelings for him and he doesn't have feelings for you, well then, I'm inclined to believe you and leave it alone."

Amazing. This man in her arms is simply amazing. This was a Jay Halstead no one and she honestly knew that, no one else saw him in this light, saw how understanding he is, how courteous, gentle, kind and lovable he can be. She runs her hand through his hair once again, those three words approaching the tip of her tongue and threatening to come out. She holds them back though; it's too early and she doesn't want to scare him off.

She leaned forward and kissed the top of his head, her lips brushing over his brunette hair before looking down at him and tugging his head upwards, coaxing him to meet her eyes, "Kelly and I are just close friends. That's it. That's all. He's honestly like a brother to me, a protector of sorts and I can honestly say for as long as I've known him, we've always had each other's backs."

"I'm glad," he released her from his arms and she took a step back.

Before Erin decided to venture out of the room and towards the bathroom, she spotted a water bottle and aspirin on her bedside table. She didn't put that there last night. He must have. And that's when Erin knew that the three words that threatened to come out moments ago, truly needed to come out. She grabbed his face and pressed an aggressive kiss against his lips before turning to soothe her headache with pain relievers and water.

Erin's bare feet padded out of the bedroom after consuming the pills left for her last night. It was the only time she waited for, that would allow them to kick in. She ventured off to the bathroom, stepping onto the cold marble tiles the second she entered the gold-embellished restroom, she saw her reflection. She peered into her own eyes noticing a lattice of light pink coating over the white within her orbs. She no longer looked like the appealing girl from last night, the glamour, the intrigue and the allure from the night before faded away the second the sun rose this morning.

She turned on the faucet, adjusting the temperature to the coldest setting before splashing water onto her face. It was refreshing. It woke her up. It drained the sleep from her eyes and gave her body the shock it needed to get up and get going. As she grabbed a washcloth from beside her and wet it to apply to her face, she felt the familiar arms of her boyfriend wrap around her. He was insatiable. He could absolutely never have enough of her. She felt his teeth press around her earlobe, tugging it gently before his words whispered in her ear, "We both might have big days tomorrow, but that doesn't mean we can't enjoy today."

He reached around her to grab his toothbrush as she pondered, "I know I leave tomorrow, but what do you have to do?"

Erin waited for an answer as she grabbed her own toothbrush, applying toothpaste onto it before doing the same to his. He responded before sweeping the toothbrush across his teeth, "We're all flying to Phoenix, Arizona tomorrow night for our concert on Monday night."

She temporarily stopped brushing, "I'm confused," she turned to face him and pulled the toothbrush out of her mouth, "I thought your concerts were along the east coast. I thought LA was the only exception."

"Plans change," he shrugged his shoulders.

She resumed brushing her teeth; her brows remain furrowed, "I didn't think concert schedules were tentative. I didn't know you could change things around so quickly."

The truth was they purposely changed things around because if all went according to plan, he would have to fly into DC in a few days to perform for Independence Day. It wasn't set in stone but he was confident. At least that's what he told himself. Will had added a few cities onto their schedule, but he moved the dates around, pushed a few concerts close together in order to add in this performance. Originally California wasn't on the list of locations, but they had a huge fan base there and Will worked something out; the same ended up happening with Phoenix, Las Vegas and Atlanta. Those will be first locations on his tour and after Atlanta, Georgia they will go to Miami, Florida and then go to Nashville, Tennessee for a performance and be in their tour bus for the remainder of the tour. It's already there, parked at the venue, weeks before their concert. All of their concert locations after that are along the east coast.

Jay spit out the toothbrush and before lightly rinsing it off to bring back into his mouth, he gave a vague explanation, "Nothing is ever truly fixed. Sometimes things come up and plans have to change in order to adjust accordingly."

Erin left it at that. She knew he was holding back, but she also knew that if he wanted her to know then she would. She finished brushing her teeth and rinsing her mouth, "So," she waits for him to rinse his mouth out before continuing, "It's almost lunch time and I'm starved. What are we to do about this?"

"I'm glad you asked," he grabbed a folded hand towel and used it to dry his mouth, "today I have scheduled us a cooking class in downtown LA."

"A cooking class," she repeats, somewhat dumbfounded.

"Yeah, I've never been to one and based on your cooking skills I would assume the same for you," he chuckled when she slapped his chest, "I'm just saying, I think it'll be fun and besides who knows when I'll be back in your territory; I can't have my girl living off takeout food."

-x-

During the ride to 'Anyone Can Cook,' Jay couldn't seem to keep still. He was a ball of nerves; his leg bounced up and down as his hands fumbled over his lap. The announcement of the musical lineup for the fourth of July should be broadcasted any day, truly any moment now. The original announcement had been postponed due to some last minute changes and he had hoped, crossed his fingers and wished that the last minute change was his band being added to the list.

It was only when they were stepping out of the rented truck, walking into the building and being greeted by chef and owner Gabriel Moretti. With an excited grin on his face, he stuck his hand out to Erin first, "You can call me Gabe," he responds after Erin greets him formally. She extends her hand and he kindly takes it, bringing it to his mouth to press his lips against it in such a polite way, "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Jay stepped forward next, extending his own hand and quirking his brow curiously wondering if he would receive the same greeting, "I'm Jay. We spoke on the phone."

Gabe, suddenly reminded of Halstead's presence turns to face him with an equally wide grin on his face, "Yes, hi, it's nice to meet you. I'm a fan." The two men shake hands.

"You are?" this intrigues Jay. He didn't peg the chef as a listener of his music.

"Definitely," he's overenthusiastic in his response, "anyway, shall we get started? I planned three courses for us to make today. It'll be an appetizer, an entrée and dessert."

"I must warn you," Erin prepares to joke; "I am not graceful in the kitchen. At all. I cannot tell the difference between a tablespoon, a dessert spoon and a soup spoon."

The chef's eyes flicked over to Erin and lingered a little longer than Jay felt comfortable with before he chuckled and responded, "…then you've come to the right place." His eyes fall towards Halstead when he approached his girlfriend's side to lace his fingers with hers.

Gabe waves for the couple to follow him out of the lobby and into the large kitchen that doubled as a classroom. Many tables were lined up, but only one was filled with the ingredients, the pots, pans and cooking utensils needed to create and perfect their meal for the afternoon. Gabe was already dressed in his chef's hat and apron and walked over to grab the same garments for his classmates, "Here you go," he tossed it towards Jay and smirked when he caught it, "if you don't mind Erin," he approached the first daughter, setting the hat down, "I'll help you," he kindly throws the apron loop around her neck and ties the strings of it behind her back.

Jay watches the interaction. He watches as his unsuspecting girlfriend blushes the second the chef tugged the chef's hat atop her head, "There. Now you're one step closer to being a chef."

An awkward silence surrounds the room. Gabe's hands remained on the edge of the chef's hat, peering down into the light brown-hazel shaded eyes of the president's daughter. He had to be at least ten years older than her, but age has never stopped him. Now it was starting to make sense why Gabe was so forthcoming in shutting down his restaurant and classes to all except them for a private session. He reasoned it was because of their popularity, but now Halstead was starting to think otherwise. Jay cleared his throat. And Gabe slowly released the cap when she swallowed and broke their intense stare. Yeah, it was definitely awkward…for all of them.

Erin took a step back into Jay's arms, silently shutting down the chef's attempts at flirting. Her boyfriend was pleased and eager to solidify her point and wrap one of his arms around her shoulders, turning her inward to face him, "Why don't I see other people? I thought this was a cooking class."

"It is," Jay answers, leading her over to their designated cooking station, "and because it's technically closed right now."

"Why?"

"I requested it."

"Why?"

"…because this is a date and we deserve to experience a normal date without people sneaking pictures of us, approaching me for an autograph or getting into a political debate with you," he reasoned and she truly understood his explanation, "I asked the owner and after verifying who I am with him, he happily obliged as long as I gave a good rating. It'll be good for his business, but now I'm questioning just how many stars he deserves after flirting with my girlfriend."

Gabe had disappeared at some point to retrieve their refrigerated ingredients. He was bashful. That overly confident man who greeted them was slowly dwindling away as he walked off, scratching the back of his ear in thought over what exactly had just happened. Erin stood behind the table, silencing her cell before examining the kitchen tools laid out in front of her, "You're a better cook than me. Besides the obvious ones, do you recognize any of this?"

"I sure do," he replied smugly.

"Oh really," she lifted the first random kitchen tool, "then what's this?"

"You'll have to wait to find out."

She laughed, continually holding it up, "You're only saying that because you don't know."

"No," he quickly corrected, "I'm saying that because I paid a pretty penny to reserve this session for us and we're going to get every cent of my money's worth, including a full explanation of each kitchen tool and appliance."

"It's a garlic press," Gabe's voice filled the room when he reentered. Erin sets the tool back down as he elaborates, "It's used to crush garlic cloves."

The chef approached their table and carefully laid out each ingredient before venturing over to preheat multiple ovens in preparation for each course. Erin swayed restlessly in anticipation for their lesson to begin; she only passed the time by sparking conversation with her date, "so your friends," her fingers tapped against the countertop, "specifically Devon and Violet."

"I wouldn't really say we're friends," he's distractedly tracing the patterns etched into the counter; "they work for me. It's strictly a business relationship."

"That's good to know."

He may not have been interested in the topic of conversation at first, but her reaction did peg his curiosity, "Why?"

"No specific reason," she shrugged it off and hoped he left it at that.

She didn't want to start problems. They didn't like her. And that was fine. A lot of people didn't like her, but the problem was the things they said about her in her presence, close enough to where they knew she could hear. And they didn't care. But, this was her problem. They were staff of her boyfriend; they weren't friends. She didn't want to get in the way of his work relationships when this affected his personal one with her.

Fortunately, the subject was dropped because Gabe walked back over. He cleared his throat as he took a stand in front of his students, "As both of you know I'm Chef Gabe, and for tonight I have prepared the ingredients for our three courses of the evening: garlic bread bruschetta for our appetizer, chicken scarpariello for the entrée and cannolis for dessert."

Gabe briefly turned around to retrieve three wine glasses, "We have an open wine bar," he announces as he lifts one of his most expensive bottles, "and for the occasion, I have a bottle that has been recently imported. It's only for my best students," he grins, setting it down in front of them, "We'll drink, cook and eat. How does that sound?"

"…like I'm dreaming," Erin whispered, bouncing on her toes.

"We'll start making the garlic bread bruschetta. I've already preheated the oven. Erin, since you asked about the garlic press, I want you to crush the garlic while Jay slices the loaf of bread into about a one-inch thickness, that's about this," he holds up his fingers to provide an example, "thick and then lay it out onto this pan."

Jay appears to know what he's doing. He unravels the loaf of bread from its package and grabs the correct knife to begin slicing. She's impressed. Erin turns away from her boyfriend to focus on her own task; she grabs the clove of garlic and sets it between the two prongs, "Just give it a good squeeze," he directed and she does, but it doesn't quite crush into small enough pieces to be mixed into the butter they will eventually melt.

Gabe watches with an amused grin on his face, "You have to squeeze it really hard."

"I am," she chuckled dryly; her face gritting as she clenches her hand around it tighter.

"Here let me help," he reaches across the counter to wrap his hand around hers; he repositions their grip around the garlic press and pushes, "there we go. You see how it's all going through and being crushed into smaller bits," his eyes averted up to meet hers, "You're too hard on yourself. You're doing great."

"All we've done is chop garlic."

"Don't discredit yourself. I think you're-"

"I'm done," Jay purposely interrupts, slamming the last slice of bread onto the baking sheet.

Gabe grabs the bowl of butter and nods for Erin to pour the crushed garlic into it. He ventures off to melt the butter in the microwave, leaving his two students momentarily alone. Jay takes advantage of this; his mood suddenly lighting up as he wrapped his arms around her waist, "Are you enjoying yourself?"

He shrugged his shoulders, "Yeah, but I think Chef Gabe is enjoying himself even more."

Her hands wrapped around his biceps, "He's just a very hands-on teacher."

"Yeah, he's definitely hands-on."

"If it makes you uncomfortable," he interrupts her with the rapid shake of his head.

"I'm not uncomfortable. I don't get uncomfortable," it's his macho attitude that has him quickly correcting her assessment; it's a part of that bad boy image that has been ingrained in him for as long as he can remember. He says he doesn't get uncomfortable, he doesn't get embarrassed and he doesn't get jealous because to be one of those would require him to care about the opinion of others. And that's something he prides himself on -not caring.

Erin doesn't debate it or argue with him. If he wants to seem macho and tough then she'll let him. It doesn't bother her, at least for right now it doesn't. Hopefully her influence on him will have that changing soon. She wants him to be in tune with his emotions and unashamed about the feelings that he cannot control. It's okay to feel uncomfortable, or jealous, or embarrassed or any other emotion, you just have to accept it. We're all human and feeling comes with it.

"Here's the butter," Gabe is back and she's pulling out of Jay's arms in order to turn and get her next instruction, "Erin, take the whisk," he points at it even though that's one kitchen tool she knew about, "mix the melted butter and garlic together for a few seconds and then brush it using this," he holds up the tool," onto of each slice of bread, "and Jay," he turns to face him, "while she does that, you can apply the Italian seasoning onto the bread and use the grater to grate parmesan cheese onto each slice. Each ingredient is fresh so you can get that authentic and renewed taste."

As Erin brushes the garlic-butter onto the bread, she poses a question, "This question may reflect poorly on my cooking skills, but what's a grater?"

"It's that," Jay points it out before Gabe has the chance to, "it's used to grate food into smaller pieces. You'll see." Gabe nodded to back up his student's explanation.

And she does. She watches as the block of parmesan is grated into smaller strands over top the bread. Next, Gabe sets a bowl in between the couple, "I'm going to put the bread in the oven for about 15 minutes or at least until they're a golden brown. While I do this," he lifts the tomatoes and hands them to Jay," I want you to dice up tomatoes and put them into the bowl while you," he grabs a clove of garlic and hands it to her, "use the garlic press to crush the garlic into the bowl. If you need help pressing the garlic, let me know."

"Actually," Jay speaks up, sliding the knife and tomatoes towards her, "I'll do the garlic this time. I haven't used a presser in a long time."

Erin eyes him. While Gabe may not be of the wiser, she is, she knows what changed his mind and forced him to switch tasks with her. And a part of her didn't like it.

Gabe disappears once again to slide the baking sheet in the oven and set the timer. Erin chops up tomatoes while reflecting on her uncomfortable and obviously jealous boyfriend. She normally wouldn't mind it and she usually would do what she could to reassure him that he had nothing to worry about, but this time she didn't. This time she wasn't. And it was all because technically speaking Jay wasn't uncomfortable. His words, not hers. If he wouldn't own up to it, then she would act no differently. But, what upset her the most wasn't the clear wipe away of his obvious emotions; it was the fact that he doubted her, he didn't trust her with the truth and instead of telling her, he's acting in response to the very same feeling he denied moments ago.

Their instructor rejoins them. And Erin finds herself focused on dicing the tomatoes. Cutting is probably the only thing she knows how to do in the kitchen without assistance and adult supervision. Everything else is questionable.

Erin smiles up at Gabe the second he places full wine glasses down in front of them. She definitely needed a drink. She lifted her glass and took a large sip before adding the last of the tomatoes to the bowl. Smiling like the overeager student she currently is, she waits for her next instruction. He didn't give out the next one yet; he waited for Jay to add the garlic to the bowl.

"Alright, now I want Jay to chop up these fresh basil leaves and add them to the mix while Erin adds the seasoning; we'll just need salt and pepper." Her job was pretty simple and lasted all of one minute. Once she set the shakers back down, he was holding out a glass bottle of olive oil, "this is very important. It brings the dish together. I want you to apply a layer to our mixture as Jay adds the remaining basil and then you have the important job of stirring it, bringing the taste together until it all blends and is coated with olive oil."

She sips at her wine as she waits for her boyfriend to finish chopping the basil and add in the rest to the bowl. And once he's done, he lifts his glass as she performs her task. This time she wasn't handed a whisk; she was given a large spoon to stir the topping.

"Put your back into it, Erin," Gabe instructed, walking around the counter to approach her side, "we want it all fully coated. You got to move that elbow, basically put your hips into it. Cooking can be a little workout if you allow it to be. But, you must be careful so the mixture doesn't spill out of the bowl; it'll kind of defeat the purpose of actually putting it in a bowl."

"Am I done?" Honestly, her arm was beginning to tire out.

"Stir a little longer; here, let me help," he took a stand behind her, reaching around her to cover her hand around the spoon. Just as he had done before with the garlic presser, he guided her hand around the bowl, firm yet gentle, smooth yet rough, coating every ingredient without any tomatoes, garlic or basil spilling out.

"I think she got it," Jay's face was expressionless yet it matched the irritated tone of his words, "you can back off now. I paid you to teach us how to cook, not to do the work for us."

"Done," Gabe applauded, stepping back, "Now I'll go check on the bread and bring it over when it's finished. We'll have to grate some more cheese to garnish it with and then allow it to cool off and then you two can start eating the appetizer."

Jay stays close. Noticeably close. And it drives her mad because she knows why even if he won't admit it.

She waits until Gabe is near the oven, opening the door to check on the bread that smells absolutely divine. Once she knows the chef is far enough away not to overhear, she crosses her arms and faces her boyfriend, "You could be a little nicer to him."

"I think he's been nice enough for the both of us."

"If you're so uncomfortable with this, I won't let him show me how to operate a utensil."

He grits his teeth, "I'm not uncomfortable."

"…then what are you because you're definitely not okay!"

Gabe glances over his shoulder; he hears their arguing but pretends to be absorbed with watching the bread cook. He'll wait to come back over.

"I'm fine."

"We have two more meals to get through cooking with him. If this is how you are fine, I would be scared to see how you are upset."

"I don't want him touching you," his words are vulnerable but he still appears to be angry.

"Okay," she calms down, nodding slowly; they were getting somewhere, "he won't touch me anymore. You have my word."

Jay doesn't respond to that. He wasn't that type of guy to admit his feelings or admit when something is bothering him. He didn't do things like that. He wasn't the man to say I love you which is why he hasn't even said anything yet. He didn't do things like that, but she was intent on making him, on bringing it out of him regardless of how uncomfortable it made him feel. He had a vulnerable moment; he let his guard down and he didn't like it. So, he didn't respond to her guarantee. Matter of fact, he didn't respond or say anything for the rest of their date. He just nodded or shook his head when someone spoke to him. It made for an awkward rest of the date experience. Erin, on the other hand, kept her word; she made sure he didn't touch her. But from his silence, it appears that maybe the damage was already done? Was he upset with her for being so nice to a man who obviously thought she was attractive? Was he mad at himself for admitting why he was upset? For feeling less than a man because he let down his walls and told her the truth. He let himself be vulnerable enough to admit why he was mad but still holds the most valuable emotion locked away; love. That word will make him reach a level of vulnerability he doesn't want to imagine. Yet, as she stands next to him, lifting up the garlic bread bruschetta to taste, he watches her and just the simple gesture of her eyes closing as the food settles on top of her taste buds has him fighting through that vulnerability, wanting to admit his love for her.

-x-

Jay shut the door behind them and that awkward silence still filled the air. He stared into the back of her head as she dragged her feet inside, kicking off each shoe in two steps. Her arms were wrapped around her front, lower waist and she made her way to the large bay window overlooking the pier. Erin's mouth was dry and her shoulders were tense; she inhaled a deep breath in an effort to work up the nerve to talk, "Jay, we-"

"I love you."

She blinked and quickly turned around to face him. Her eyes blown wide and her mouth agape, "What did you say?"

"I love you."

Erin felt a sudden lump form in her throat; the truth, the passion and the gravity in what he said made her speechless. Her eyes widened at his admission and it felt as though the floor had disappeared from beneath her.

He takes her silence as an opportunity to continue, "I don't want to lose you. That's why I can be a possessive and overprotective idiot sometimes because I can't lose you. I can't. And that scares the shit out of me," he brushed his hand behind his neck and scratched the base of it, "You're the best thing that has ever happened to me. And I know it's early in our relationship but you bring a side out of me that I've never seen before, feelings I've never known I was capable of possessing and I don't want to lose that," he slowly approaches her, "So when I saw that guy looking at you, practically undressing you with his eyes I got mad, I got territorial and I got a little mean, but for the first time in a long time it reminded me of what I have and how easily I could lose it, lose you."

"Jay," he reached for her hand and intertwined their fingers together; "I love you too."

And a tug or two hinted at exactly what he wanted and she was in his arms, held protectively and lifting her up. One arm goes around her back and the other wraps around the bend in her knees. She wraps her arms around his shoulders and nuzzles her face into the crook of his neck, "You don't have to worry about losing me. I'm not going anywhere."

With the longest steps he's taken since arriving, he kicks the bedroom door to the suite closed behind him after he enters. And she clambers out of his embrace, standing back on her feet. His lips were on hers in a split second; it was nothing romantic or calm about it. He wanted to cement their new feelings for each other, to strengthen their bond and fortify their love for each other. It didn't take long for them to shred each other of their clothes, to stand before one another in full on nudity.

She was the sole possessor of his heart. She had the control, the power to destroy him and break every ounce of his spirit. He trusted her with such a delicate possession just as she trusted him. And those feelings were reflected in their expression as they quickly made their way to the bed, her falling down and him climbing on top of her, meeting her lips in a desperate kiss as he slid inside of her, taking a moment for her to adjust to his size.

Jay stilled the first second he was inside of her, succumbing to the way in which she surrounded him. But, the second ended when she asked, more like pleaded, for him to move and there was no way in hell he could resist or reject her. He moved, thrusted, pushed and plunged; and each action, slow and teasing, had reaffirmed his feelings for her, his love for her. And there was no way he deserved her, a guy like him with a woman like her, yet here they are together and he vowed at this moment to never take it for granted.

"I love you, Erin. _I love you_."

The whispered profession is given just as he slid into her. Over and over he moved inside her and Erin met him with each thrust, holding him, trying to get closer, to somehow feel more than what she's feeling in some effort to push them pass their breaking point. She loved him too, more than words could simply put it. Looking up and watching as Jay begin to lose himself was enough to push her over the edge. The sound of slapping skin and hungry kisses filled the small room. Erin clawed at his shoulders, her body beginning to tremble.

Erin's back arched off the bed and her arms circled around Jay's neck, tugging his lips down to connect to hers. She yanked at his hair while nipping at his bottom lip as he moved in and out, in and out at such a torturously slow pace; it was driving her crazy. The switch up, from fast to now slow was absolute torment, a type of agony that had her begging for more.

"Jay," she muttered against his lips, "you need to move _faster_." It's an order that he happily ignores. This isn't a time for quick and wild –he gave her that at first- this was a time for slow and sensual. He wanted this moment to last. She groaned in frustration when she realized that he wouldn't heed her order and that groan pulled a smile along his lips, a smile that she could feel pressed against the crook of her neck. The scruff of his facial hair pricked against her flesh as he placed kisses along her neck, each peck, bite and suck matched the beat of every thrust.

"I love you, Erin," he declared, pushing some of her hair out of her face, "I love you so much."

His lips met hers in a seductive kiss where he nipped at her lips as he dragged himself tortuously slow –inside and out in a repeated motion, building her up with every passing second.

"I love you too, Jay."

Jay broke the kiss and caught her eyes. He holds her gaze as he settles inside of her. She's still, her breathing is erratic and before she could grumble, he's kissing her again, but this time his pace increased slightly. A rhythm was set the moment he gave in and sped up, a rhythm that was hard, passionate and fast, that was aimed at finishing them off, leading them to a temporary world of bliss. He grabs her leg and hitches it around his hip causing him to sink even deeper inside of her. She hissed, "Oh!"

The way he filled her up, the way he hit every spot within her as they made love was mind-blowing, as they submitted every ounce of themselves, their bodies and their passion to one another. The words felt so easy to say which was huge. He didn't regret them at all which was even bigger. It will be three months since they officially started dating and yet he didn't feel as if they were moving too fast. Love at first sight, maybe? It's possible he loved her the second he bumped into her. It's also possible that maybe storybook romances were a real thing.

Erin gently nipped down onto his bottom lip and smirked, "Tell me again."

"I love you," he panted, not slowing down, "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

He looks down into her eyes, portraying every truth to his words. Only she can bring this side out of him. Only she has ever been privy to seeing this side of him. No one, absolutely no one, has ever saw him vulnerable, has ever filled his heart in such an overwhelming magnitude and no one has possibly come close to making a permanent residence inside of his heart.

The strength of his gaze was penetrating and it made her shut her eyes for reprieve. This relationship was too intense; they fell for each other in the span of two, almost three months. They reached a level of intimacy and love that many couples don't reach for years. Some might not even ever be able to reach it. She held her eyes closed as her hands dropped from his biceps and her arms moved around his shoulders.

"Eyes on me Erin," he trailed one hand down the side of her face, urging her eyes to reopen, "I want you to watch everything between us."

Erin nodded, using every amount of force to pry her own eyes open as her arousal heightened to a level she has honestly never reached before. He was her first in many ways, in love, in true intimacy and in affection. She's dated before him; she wasn't a virgin at all, but when it came to him she felt new, inexperienced and at his complete mercy.

Erin's mind went blank. She was trying to catch her words, but her breath was lost. She was close to her end. So close yet so far away.

"I love you," she panted as she pulled his hair at the nape of his neck, "Don't stop."

"I have no intentions of stopping," he increased his pace; the sound of slapping skin echoing around the walls in their suite.

Neither knew how long this lasted, how long they were at it and neither truly cared. This was a monumental moment, an occasion that deserved every ounce of celebration. And as they fell down from their high together, her arms wrapped around his neck, holding him against her while he struggled to hold up his weight in an effort to avoid dropping his dead, exhausted weight on her. Erin smiled and felt the faint beating of his heart against her bare chest. She didn't want to let him go and he didn't want to disconnect himself from her, but he was weak and he didn't want to collapse on top of her and possibly smother her with his overbearing weight.

The feeling of her nimble fingers caressing his face and the look in her sated and gentle eyes met his and reminded him of his love for her. He truly didn't regret a thing. If it was possible, he loved her more and more with every second that passed. Maybe it's true, maybe all it takes is the love and affection from the right woman to change a man's ways? Maybe his past didn't matter? It was all in the past. Maybe all he needed to give him that push to work on his reputation was the right woman? She was the perfect match for him. And realizing that will only prove to make things harder tomorrow when it was time to say goodbye. She made her way into his heart without his permission and without him even noticing and now he'll have to say goodbye to her for an undisclosed amount of time. He prayed, crossed his fingers and hoped that he was talented enough, rich enough, famous enough to get that gig in DC just so he could have the best of both worlds. He could see her, love her while performing at the National Mall, while showing the world that this once low, middle-class reckless, wild and irresponsible Chicago boy that grew up in the city streets could make it all on his own. He didn't need connections; he was dating the first daughter but he didn't use her for it and the last thing he wanted was to have doors open for him just because he was dating her. That's why he never asked her for help in getting the gig because if he did there would be no doubt in his mind that it was his whether he deserved it or not. So, he never asked. And she never offered. And that was just a whole other reason why he loved her. She understood that this was more than a simple performance or gig, this was him proving himself and his career to himself and his doubters.


	21. Don't Go

When he should have been working, formulating the lyrics to a song, he found himself unable to focus on it. All he could think about was seeing Erin again, even though she was technically still here, standing behind him and massaging the tension out of his shoulders. Jay assumed that seeing her so often, whether it's him flying out to see her or her coming to see him, would help the ache that her absence often gave him. Time together seemed to never be enough. She always left him craving for more and more. Somehow, in some way, the last few months had transformed him from the man he used to be into the man he is today. He knew what was really important; his priorities had been majorly adjusted. Being with Erin had changed his outlook on mundane things in life; she had changed his perspective on large issues in life. She had altered his life in the most amazing way possible. And that scared him. It scared the shit out of him.

As her hands lightly stroked his shoulder blades, Jay takes advantage of the silent moment to reflect. For him to be such a successful, sociable and good looking guy, the fact that he bounced around from woman to woman, only spending hours with them to drink, experience a night on the town and have sex, while refusing to sleep overnight with his one night stands or even label them as anything more than a fling, showed just how deep rooted his commitment issues are that terrified him. He's broken hearts; he let down one night stands that assumed sharing a night would change him. It didn't.

Erin's hands slowly increased the pressure upon his stressed shoulders and it felt so good, good enough that he sighed in pleasure. He had an album to write, a tour to continue and a girlfriend to make time for; it didn't seem like there were enough hours in the day. His sponsors were hounding him, his brother was stressing him and for the first time in, honestly forever, he didn't want all the attention. His fingers press down and her hands continue to move in an upward motion. He should be relaxing, but his brain refused to grant him any peace of mind, any solace or comfort. It plagued his thoughts with memories of his past, of a time before he met Erin and if he were to be extremely honest, he missed it. The endless carousel of women circling his life, the regular adrenaline rush that burst through his veins every time he broke the law or went outside the norm and most especially the lack of expectations placed upon him by folks who only know who he is because of who he's dating.

He groans when he feels her hands knead the upper area of his back in a circular motion. It immediately starts to relieve the pain and tension in his muscles. It provided him a relief he honestly didn't know he needed. He shut his eyes, thinking of the last thought that crossed his mind, the one about a lack of expectations. He didn't want to please anyone. He didn't have to mold and conform in order to gain approval. His true fans liked him for all he is, but when he's with her, he's being pulled in two different directions. A part of him wants to change because she deserves it, she deserves someone who loves her, will support her and will never break her heart, but the other part of him, a smaller part than it was in the past enjoyed the vices of the world, he found pleasure in the things that would unfortunately disappoint her.

Jay knows himself; he knows just how difficult it is for him to hold down a relationship. Every day he wakes up and realizes that he's still dating Erin, is a day worth recognizing. It's a blessing in itself because in the past he has never had a relationship that lasted more than a week, more than a few days actually. It would start out with good intentions, but then the second he was with his band, on tour or away from the poor woman he tried to start a relationship with, he would get needy, he would be surrounded by the temptations of other women and he would break up with those women through text as he led the next to his hotel room. Sometimes, he hated himself for it. And sometimes, he didn't care enough to even express his emotions.

His head tilts down as Erin's fingers carded through his short brunette hair, rubbing small circles into his scalp, relieving him of a headache that had been overshadowed by the tension in his shoulders. Jay sighed at the feeling of relief and the feeling of his heart slowly constricting. He loves her; he didn't lie about that. He wouldn't have said it, he wouldn't have made himself vulnerable and set himself up for rejection if he didn't mean it. He loves her…so much, but he's also scared about what'll happen when she lands in D.C. and he's in Phoenix; he's scared it'll be a repeat of the past. He's scared that he'll break her heart, ruin her for other men and disappoint her. He doesn't want her to feel how he's feeling, to have the commitment issues he grapples with day in and day out to plague her. He wants to spare her of those.

Jay fears that he won't be able to remain faithful if he's away from her for too long. Maybe that's why her father hates his guts? Maybe he can see through it all? Voight has lived a long life; he probably knows men like Jay and knows what they're capable of doing. He wants to spare his daughter of the heartbreak that Jay's commitment issues will cause. He's not proud of it, but he embraces it. He knows who he is, he embraces the bad boy title and he doesn't claim to be better. Everybody sins, just in different ways.

He has to make sure a long period of time does not go by without him seeing her. He's scared of what may happen if it does. Maybe breaking things off with her would be better? It'll hurt in the beginning but it'll hurt even more if they continue this. Maybe he should have followed Rixton's lead? Maybe he should have listened? Maybe the commentators on their relationship were right? Maybe Rixton was right? Maybe he's not meant for a serious relationship, especially with her? Maybe they're too different? Maybe they're setting themselves up for failure? It's not going to end well. He's falling too hard and she's right behind him.

Halstead lifts his head as the pressure lightens before he rolls his shoulders, hinting for her to cease the massage. She does and takes a step back, "How are you feeling now?"

"Much better," the grin on his face is small as he rubs the back of his neck a bit bashfully.

She leaned forward and gave him a small, simple peck on his lips before walking away, "I'm going to head to the bathroom and then we can head out." He nods, sighing in relief at being granted a chance to collect himself –alone- before heading out with her.

As she leaves the bathroom, she receives another text from her mother, asking –basically pestering- her to tell Jay; they needed an RSVP from his band. Her mother is growing concerned that his band will be a no-show and they'll have an awkward period of a lack of entertainment for an allotted set of time. By the time Erin was seated in the backseat of the truck with Jay, she received another text, this time from her brother asking her to please respond to their mother's text because she keeps calling him and asking him whether or not he has spoken to her. Her mother, being the worried, neurotic person that she is not only reached out to Justin, but by the time they were parking, her voicemail notification pinged and it was from her father. She listened to it and with his most authoritative voice on, he told her to call her mother. And she honestly planned to; she had every intention of telling Jay the good news while they're walking along Hollywood Boulevard, but her mother is not giving her a chance.

By the time they're walking along the Hollywood stars, hand-in-hand, Atwater receives a call and gestures for her to check her phone. That's when she knew that the perfect moment will never come, not with her mother literally pestering everyone. Camille won't stop; she'll only advance on and make her way through all of Erin's guards before calling Jay and telling him herself. Now, was a better time than any and as they walked along the stars, holding hands and enjoying the summer breeze, she cleared her throat, "Jay."

And before he could respond, his phone rings, cutting off her attempt. He pouted and held up his finger, motioning for her to give him a second as he swiped to answer, "Hey."

Please, let it not be her mother. To Erin's knowledge, she didn't have Jay's number, but she wouldn't be surprised if she somehow got it. That woman could do anything.

"It's Will."

Jay held the phone up to his ear and continued walking alongside her. He used his free hand to plug his ear, blocking out the sound of chatter and city traffic around them. She watched him the entire time; her sunglasses shielding her eyes as they interpreted the transforming expression on his face. It went from flat, a look of indifference to one of confusion and then suddenly joy. He just received good news, which is great because it'll only expand his mood. His news plus her news will make for a good day and an even greater goodbye because they have a set date for when they'll see each other again.

As they continue walking along the Hollywood stars, she takes time to read the names, recognizing some and overlooking others. He continues talking to his brother, "That's great, yeah I have Erin right here with me," she looks up at the mention of her name and that's when she notices the collection of people scattered around them taking photos. Her guards close in, grouping around as their walking speed suddenly decrease. Nothing is wrong, but they're out in the open, in a huge city and at a famous tourist attraction. This place was too unpredictable and posed absolutely too many risks. If she didn't beg, her guards probably wouldn't have taken her. If she didn't threaten to sneak away, they definitely wouldn't have escorted her.

Jay gently pulls her to a stop just as he hangs up and pockets his cell. The grin on his face looks painful. It's so far and wide and it looks so good on him. She lifts her sunglasses up to give herself a better view of him, a clearer image of his thrilled expression. With her guards surrounding them, she knows this moment is unable to be captured on camera. No one is able to see them huddled together, no can see her hands gripping the bottom of his shirt and tugging him closer to her. She's impatient. She wants, no, actually needs to know the cause of the smile on his face.

This day was finally starting to turn around. He had woken up in a bad mood and he tried to hide it from her, but she saw through it all. He took her up on her offer of a back rub and a shoulder massage and it only worked to relieve him of the tension, but whatever plagued him still haunted him. She felt his arms circle her waist and he lifted her into the air in excitement before smashing his lips against hers in a sloppy kiss, "Erin!" Now he's beaming and she really wants to know.

"What happened?" She giggles, "What did he say? What's the good news? What's going on? Don't leave me wondering for too long, babe."

And without waiting another moment, he tells her, "My band got the gig."

It doesn't click for her right away, "Got what gig?"

"You know," his eyes are wide and filled with absolute delight, "in D.C. for Independence Day! Do you remember me mentioning that I would die for that performance? And now I got it! I got it because my band is just that good, Er! We're up there, Erin! And this is going to be great press! And really good for record sales! I can't believe it! I got the gig! My band got the gig! I earned that, baby!"

"Congratulations, babe," she leaned forward and sealed it with a kiss, one that he ended just a few seconds too soon in her opinion.

Jay's hands remained on her hips and he took in the bright smile on her face. She was happy for him but she wasn't surprised. He could read her like an opened book. His head tilted in speculation that was quickly confirmed by her smile widening, "You knew."

"I knew what?" She was playing dumb.

"You knew my band got the gig."

"Yeah," she admitted, hand coming up to settle on the side of his face, "I wanted to be the one to tell you. I really did. I was actually going to tell you right before Will called."

He turned his face towards her hand and pecked her palm, "This is great. This is awesome. This is amazing! We finally have an actual date for when we'll see each other again. But, how did you find out?"

"My mother kept me in the loop throughout the entire process," she started to explain and chose to further elaborate the second confusion swept through his features, "I reached out to her after you first shared with me your wish to be in the Fourth of July day celebration performance and she spoke with her assistant and they got to work and made it happen. Oh," she drops her hand from his face the second she remembers, "make sure you RSVP for it too. As soon as possible or the First Lady will not be pleased. She's been hounding me about that for far too long."

"Wait…" his hands drop from her hips, "I'm confused."

"About what?"

His brows furrow, "I thought…"

"What did you think?" Now she's confused too. He isn't saying anything.

"I thought my band was invited because our songs are rising on the charts worldwide, because of our appeal and our fan base. I thought we got the gig based solely on our talent and our talent alone."

Erin waves that comment off, smirking as she moved closer towards him, circling her arms around his hips, "You're talented of course, and very, very appealing, but there's a waiting list for that babe. Did you really think you could just call for a spot a few weeks before the actual show? That's not how the process works, babe. I know how much this means to you. A lot of celebrities express interest and are placed on the waiting list. You would have definitely performed there one year, but we just kind of pushed you up on the list so you could perform _this_ year."

"No," he tore her arms from around his waist, "damn it Erin, you used your title and position to get my band that spot. You shouldn't have done that," she opened her mouth to interrupt but he didn't allow her, "No, Erin, you should have at least ran it by me first. It's humiliating. It's nepotism. We didn't earn it. And now I have to tell my band. Shit," he pinched the bridge of his nose, "Only the biggest names are even placed on the list and allowed the chance to perform. We might not even be good enough for it. We're only guaranteed a performance because the lead singer of the band is fucking the president's daughter!"

She reaches out for him, "Jay, that's…"

And he pushes her arm away, "No. Erin, you're mixing business with pleasure. You're my girlfriend, not my manager, not a sponsor, not my bandmates or even a member of my staff; you're my girlfriend, just that. You have nothing to do with my band. You make no decisions and you have no say in the matter. You're invading into my career. This is my livelihood. Once the lineup for the night is announced, everyone will know just why my band is on that list."

"How would they know that?"

Jay brought his hands up and wrapped them around her shoulders, holding tight, "It doesn't take a rocket scientist to put two and two together. Rumors have been going around about who will be performing and my band's name was not on that list. I start dating you and three months later, I surpassed all the people on the list. I'm getting paid to perform in front of the First Family and half of the country on a day that celebrates our independence. People will know."

"Even if I didn't get involved, people would assume that anyway."

"If you didn't get involved, we wouldn't be having this conversation because I wouldn't have been invited to perform. You basically told me that. I know it and you know that too."

"Jay…"

"How did I not put it all together after Will called? It was obvious! My timing to perform; it's the perfect time! We're the band to perform right before the fireworks go off," he released her shoulders out of fear that he was holding her too tight.

"I had nothing to do with that part."

"You did."

"I didn't."

"You did, Erin."

"I didn't tell them to do that."

"You didn't have to, Erin."

"Jay…" she reaches for him again and it literally pains her when he steps back.

"Maybe it was a mistake mentioning it to you," she shakes her head at his words, at his realization, but he continues anyway, "Maybe it was a mistake bringing you here. Maybe this was all wrong."

"Jay…"

"I'll see you later, Erin."

She reached out again and he slipped through her fingers, "Wait. Don't go. _Please_."

"I need a minute to think. I need to be away from you right now," he walks through her guards and leaves her standing in the middle of Hollywood Boulevard on the verge of tears.

Erin looks up to see her guards still surrounding her, making sure no one can see through the gap and spot the tracks of tears flowing down her cheeks. She feels Roman remove her sunglasses from off her hand and place them onto her face to cover her eyes, "That's better," he smiled when her shades shield her eyes, "You can cry as much as you want in the car, but remember we're in public right now."

She knows he hates saying that, he knows he truly doesn't want her to suppress her emotions, but he's her guard and her friend and he knows how this'll look when the vultures become aware of it. He's just sparing her from hearing the rumor mill circle in on why she's crying and why her boyfriend is currently walking away, hands stuffed in his pockets.

"Erin," Dawson places his hand upon her shoulder, "do you still want to sightsee or do you want to head back to the hotel? We don't need to leave for the airport for another two hours."

She wiped the tears off her chin and answered, "I want to go back to the hotel. I…I want to get away from here where all these people can see me."

-x-

Since he stormed off, leaving her standing on the Hollywood star of a famous actor that died years before her birth, she swallowed her pride, straightened her shoulders, avoided the pitying look of her guards watching her, turned around and walked in the direction towards the truck her guards rented. Erin made her way back to the hotel suite and a part of her was disappointed to see he wasn't there. She half expected him to have come here. The door was held open by the press of her palm and she felt the shadowing figures of the men behind her, paid and assigned to watch and protect her. Physically, that is. No one could protect her heart, not even she can.

"I want to be alone," she says before shutting the door behind her. And when she glances through the peephole, she finds her guards positioned around the entryway.

Her burning eyes were flooded with tears.

She needed to talk to him, especially before she left. She didn't want to leave things the way they are; she didn't want to walk away from him upset, she didn't want to walk away from him angry and she especially didn't want to walk away from him at all. And her guards were going to make sure she was at the airport in two hours, whether it be her coming willingly or being lifted and carried away.

Erin had passed most of her time packing her suitcase, only bothering Roman briefly to zip up her luggage as she sits upon it. He departs right after; he doesn't even wait for her to walk him out because she's still upset and he knows her enough to know that she would rather be alone.

It was starting to get later, much later. She would need to leave in the next hour or she would miss her flight. She was flying commercial and she doubted the plane would delay its take off even for her of all people. Erin pulled her suitcase up and rolled it near the door. She needed to talk to him, she needed to talk this out, see why it upset him so much. Erin disappeared into the in-suite bathroom and checked her reflection; she was traveling today and she refused to wear anything that wasn't comfortable. So what she looked a little frumpy? She was just going to the airport and by the time she landed, she would be heading home and climbing into bed.

She really needed to talk to him.

And so she walked out of the bathroom, her phone out and in her hand, ready to call Jay when she saw there was no need for it. Erin came to a sudden stop, "Jay?"

He turned to look at her; his face unrecognizable. The horde of emotions churning around in those eyes of his, sent a flash of panic through her whole body. Was this the end? It couldn't be.

"Why would you do that?" His words are calm at first; they completely contradict his stance.

"I just…I just really like you, okay? I thought I was doing something nice," she rushes over to him, approaching him only to stop and stand feet away, "My intention was not to overstep or to hurt you. That was the last thing I wanted to do."

"It was you who told me a person can still be guilty even if they had no intention of committing the act," his words were filled with a hint of malice, –it frustrated her.

"That was in a court of law, Jay," she exclaimed desperately, "I was telling you about a trial I sat in on when I was an intern! The man left his kid in the car and the kid _died_! He had no intention of killing her. He said he didn't intend to be in the store that long, but the kid still died and he was still guilty. Those are two different things! That doesn't apply to this. You're comparing apples to oranges!"

"But, what about-"

She cuts him off; they're getting off track, "Jay, please don't argue with me on this! This isn't about criminal intent. I didn't commit a crime."

"I know that, I wasn't saying you did. I'm just saying that whether you intended to hurt me or not doesn't mean anything."

Her hand ran down her face as she emitted a sigh, "I'm sorry. I just wanted to do something nice for you. I know what this means to you!"

"Do you though?" His question takes her by surprise; his head tilting as he prepares to continue speaking, "because if you did then you would have known not to do something like this! Something so stupid, something that I would obviously hate. I'm a proud man, Erin, and you know this, at least I _thought_ you did! But for someone _so_ smart, you sure do make a lot of dumb decisions," that was a knife in the heart because he used the plural form of decisions; she knew he wasn't just talking about this particular incident, "You would have known that the one thing that was completely off limits to you was my career! I've given you access to everything, but the one thing that's off limits, you just had to touch! You've never had to make a name for yourself, Erin! You've never struggled to get where you are! You've never made promises that you couldn't keep! You've never started something and put blood, sweat and tears into it to make it something big! You've never had to earn anything! _Everything_ was handed to you! My band, that's all I have, and I don't appreciate you going behind my back to try and get us gigs! I'm not one of your charity cases. I don't need your help, especially when it comes to my career!" He's seething, turning red in the face and it honestly scares the both of them…but he loves her.

That's why he's so angry. He's this upset because he loves her, because he's invested and he cares. If he didn't love her, he wouldn't feel as shitty as he does right now for yelling at her, he wouldn't be hurt that she basically had no faith in his band and had to call up mommy to seal her boyfriend and his band a chance of a lifetime.

He sighs, inhaling and exhaling a long breath before his shoulders slumped in defeat, "You know what? Just forget it, you'll never understand."

There were tears stinging her eyes.

"Understand what?"

"That you can't just throw your name, your position and your money around to get the things you want! It doesn't make everything better! It doesn't fix things. And no matter how hard you try to connect with the less fortunate, you can't! You will never be able to connect. You grew up rich. You grew up in a family that sheltered you from the harsh realities of the world. I worked for everything I earned. _Mommy_ and _Daddy_ didn't pave the way for me. My parents' names do not mean a thing.I deserve to be where I am."

And that was a little harsh. He knew it, but the words had already been said and he couldn't take it back no matter how much his heart was screaming for him to do it. He ignored it. He was angry; that was the one emotion he didn't mind showing. And he wanted her to feel like him. Misery loves company as they say.

She took another step closer and became only a breath away from him, "I'm sorry, Jay! What did you expect me to do? I thought I was doing something nice! I wanted to surprise you with something I thought you would love. I thought you would be happy. I thought...I thought we were a team, Jay," she affirmed, struggling to keep her tears at bay; it wasn't working, "But I guess not, I guess I'm just a spoiled, out of touch, rich girl who cannot possibly understand the pitfalls of life. We've had different obstacles but that doesn't mean you've had more than me. You've had to earn your name; I've had to, actually I'm still trying to earn a name for myself. Everywhere I go, I'm Hank Voight's daughter, the president's daughter; I'm never just Erin. People approach me to ask questions about you, my father or a policy that he's passed or thinking about passing. Paparazzi take pictures of me because of who I'm dating," she nods towards him, "or because my father's the president. Yeah, being the daughter of Hank Voight has been easy financially and publicly speaking, but I will not let you use that to undermine _everything_ I've worked for in my life! I've overcome a lot, Jay! I worked my ass off in school while hiding my grief! I work in a male-dominated profession where men talk at me instead of to me, where some think I was hired because of who my father is or because since I am moderately attractive that I slept my way to my current position, where if I say no to any question from a male co-worker then I'm suddenly a bitch or unapproachable or where I used to feel like I had to constantly prove myself to people who were in positions lower than mine! I've overcome things you still don't know about yet. Things my parents don't even know. Things only a small margin of people know about. Things I've gone to therapy for. Yeah, my life might seem easy but that's how social media works right, it only shows you the good unless someone uncovers and broadcasts the bad."

And he felt like an asshole for putting her through this. She technically did nothing wrong. She didn't deserve his wrath, but he couldn't help himself. He couldn't control how it all made him feel. He felt like he was destined to be alone, to drift through countless women and keep his heart locked away and out of touch. He loves her; he told her so yesterday yet that only seems to cause more problems. He's too into this relationship. They're moving too fast. Maybe Rixton was right? He couldn't stop his mind from going there. Maybe Rixton was right.

Finally, he voices it. With his head hung low, he closed in the distance between them, his shoes brushing against hers, "Maybe we were never meant to work out. Maybe we are from different worlds. Maybe Kenny was right; maybe we're too different, maybe we have nothing in common, maybe we won't last and this is all just a phase. Maybe this is all just a mistake. And maybe Rixton was right about you..."

And to both of their surprise, Erin's hand flew across his face. Hard. The impact of it sent a sting across his entire cheek. She was angry now, practically fuming in the sitting room of the hotel suite. He brought up the one person she knew didn't like her, the one person who probably came close to hating her guts. He mentioned the one person she didn't like, the one person who had a lot to say about her both to his and _her_ face. That pissed her off the most.

"If you're going to take advice from _that guy_ then it's possible we won't work out after all," she said through gritted teeth, her face flushed with anger, "Fuck you, Jay."

"Erin," he reaches out for her hand but she yanks her arm away, "I'm only saying that we're from two different worlds. Rixton isn't the first to think it and he won't be the last," he's afraid of commitment, always has and by the looks of it, he always will, yet he continues to try and ease the blow, "To be honest, you deserve better. Majority of America, including your dad would agree with that and you know it."

"Shut up," she takes another step back and pinches the bridge of her nose; she's thinking. What is all of this about? It couldn't just be because she thought she was doing something nice for him. It had to be more than that. One day he's declaring his love for her and the next he's saying what he can to get her to leave. She releases a frustrated grunt and kicks the side of the arm chair.

Her anger surprises him; his eyes widen as a result. And they only continue to rise as she continues to speak, "I'm tired of people telling me what I deserve, what's right for me, what I need, what I should and shouldn't do. No one gets to make those choices for me. No one. Only me. Got it?" the second he nods his head, she continues, "If you don't want to be with me, own up to it and say you don't. That's your choice. That's your only choice in this right now. Okay, Jay, now do you want to be with me?" He does.

"This isn't an argument about whether or not I want to be with you." He does, but he's just so angry at her for what she did.

If he wasn't so pissed off, he would have thought it was cute. But he knows that finding her cute when she's upset will only anger her even more. So, he keeps that thought at bay.

"The next word that should come out of your mouth is either yes or no. Those are your options and I need for you to pick one. Do you want me?"

She has asked many questions in her life. She has asked an endless amount of questions due to her career but for some reason this question was the hardest and awaiting its answer was the most difficult because she honestly didn't know what she would do or how she would feel if he answered in the negative. He was the first guy she fell in love with; that didn't happen on a daily basis and if he rejected her, her heart wouldn't be able to take it.

"I've never wanted someone so badly in my life," he honestly admitted.

"Then act like it, fight for it, don't give up on us so easily! We're new to this, if I do something wrong, tell me otherwise I won't know. I'm not a fucking mind reader, Jay!" Her resolve is slowly crumbling, the emotion creeping into her voice and filling her words with substance, "I know you're upset about me working to get you that gig, and I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry, I know you probably feel betrayed but I also know that this isn't just about that. What else is wrong?"

And it isn't. The signs have all been there. He doesn't like labels. He doesn't need her doing favors for him and sweeping in to save the day and help out his band. He doesn't like to admit his emotions. And when he does finally admit them, the vulnerability he inevitably feels makes him start to regret it. He has commitment issues, deeply rooted in his core. He wants to be with her desperately; he loves her –that wasn't a lie. But, he knew this wasn't going to be easy. They were falling for each other, hard and fast and at the rate they were going, he was afraid of how it'll turn out. He wasn't meant to fall in love; he's a true at heart bad boy and he's damn proud of it, so when something comes and threatens that, he closes himself off and gets on the defensive.

"Nothing," his hardened face lied with such ease.

Yet, she saw through it all, "I'm your girlfriend. You can tell me. You can talk to me about these things babe, that's what I'm here for."

"I said nothing is wrong," he lied once again.

And she was over it, stepping away, turning her back to him and walking towards the door. She couldn't stand here all day and go through this repetitive conversation; she had a flight to catch.

Erin lifted the handle of her suitcase and grabbed it. Without turning around to face him, she muttered, "When you remember you have a girlfriend who you claim to love, call me. When you're ready to hear me out, call me. When you're ready to tell me the truth, when you're ready to stop lying to me, call me. Not a second before any of that, got it?" It was a rhetorical question. She didn't wait around for an answer because with that, she turned and left out of his hotel room before he could stop her.

Jay swallowed; his Adam's apple protruding in his dry throat. His hand brushed across his red, stinging cheek, while Jay also knew he was an ass before, it was this moment where he realized just how much of a colossal asshole he is, a jerk among the highest of jerks and a man who just had possibly lost the best thing that has ever and will ever happen to him.


	22. Lost Without You

Erin eyed the liquid swirling around in her glass; her gaze focused in on the ice cubes as they melt and blend in with her drink. It was either stare at that or the phone on her lap. Her phone that currently held no messages or missed calls from _him_. Her fingers tightened around the glass the longer she wallowed in her emotions. _This_ was why it was dangerous to fall for someone after dating them for a few short months. _This_ was why she should have listened to the warnings from her dad, from the media and even from Rixton himself. _This_ is why she should have paid attention to his past. They do say that past behavior is a good predictor of future behavior. And no he didn't cheat, he didn't break the law or cause a scandal, but he did hurt her.

As much as she hates to admit it, she's hurt.

She loosened her grip around the glass as her eyes looked up to take in the night sky. No stars in the sky. The moon wasn't even in sight. Her grip retightened when her eyes glanced back down to her glass; the palm of her hand radiating heat into her drink, forcing the ice to melt quicker.

It's her third glass of scotch in the last two hours. This one, she was nursing, the previous two, she took them down in less time than she's willing to admit. She knew this wasn't the best coping mechanism and while she normally didn't drink anything but wine when she was alone, she felt that today she truly did deserve as many glasses as her body could safely consume. She was hurt. And scotch currently served the purpose of being the elixir in her life.

Erin raised the glass to her lips to sip, taking in the feel of the weak burn on her tongue and throat. It would have been stronger if only her ice had managed to stay solid. She swallowed the remainder of the contents in her glass before lowering it down onto the ground beside her. She had been relaxing in the lounge chair on her balcony for hours, skipping dinner and choosing to settle the growl in her stomach with scotch. Erin lifts her phone from her lap and checks the time –it's midnight, it's officially the Fourth of July. And today would bring her enough tasks to keep her mind occupied, but by night, it would all come crashing back. When she watches the fireworks later, she'll remember their argument, especially since he would not be performing.

He never RSVP'd.

Her day, well technically her day yesterday, had been filled with avoiding her mother's incessant phone calls; she had called so much that her guards had forced her to answer, forced her to admit the truth and her mother was far from happy. Whatever points he had earned from Camille suddenly disappeared the second he fell through on rsvping for an event that her mother had to pull a few strings to get for him. Camille –and her assistant- had moved things around and cancelled a few other performances just to fit him in. She had spent all day yesterday doing damage control, calling in last minute favors to fill the performance slots –fortunately, her mother was well loved and she managed to fill in the gaps.

Erin rested her head in her left hand, staring forward at the city skyline. She was used to the view; it was one of the things she fell in love with when moving in, but now, it was starting to get old. She needed to get herself together. She could work; it wouldn't hurt to go over her case files a few more times to ensure she didn't forget anything. She could check her bank statement and go over her budget; her bills were automatically withdrawn from her account, but it wouldn't hurt to check her savings and checking account just to make sure everything came out without a problem and to make sure no other fraudulent activity occurred. She could also –call him. God, she wanted to call him, but she's so angry and she's so disappointed in him. She was truly, wholeheartedly and unequivocally disappointed in him.

Maybe she should call him? He should hear a piece of her mind; he should hear what she has to say. It's only right. It wasn't fair that she was the only one hurt. The paparazzi photos she's seen of him on social media and celebrity gossip television, he seemed to be pretty unaffected. The bad boy got another notch on his belt and this time it was hers.

Her phone rang. And for a split second, she hoped it was Jay. She hoped that fate intervened and decided to make the decision for her, but as she lifted the phone, squinted and saw Kelly's name flashing with a photo of him covered across her screen, she sighed and swiped her finger across the answer button, "I'm fine."

"I'm coming over," he sounds determined and pretty pissed off, "I could be there by tomorrow afternoon if I get my ticket right now."

"Kelly, you don't need to do that."

"I do," he says clipped.

She would call his bluff if he were bluffing. The two of them had that sort of relationship. In the past, both had hopped onto flights at some point to visit the other in a time of pain. Erin had done it countless times for him –when his mother died, when he had been hospitalized after a warehouse fire during his firefighting days and even when his dog had to get surgery. He had done the same for her –when the first few anniversaries of Nadia's death occurred, when she had first moved into her condo and needed help unpacking and even when she sprained her ankle after the heel of her shoe broke and she took a nasty tumble. This is what they did for each other and it wasn't surprising that he was offering to do it again.

Kelly sighed, "I worry about you."

"I'm fine, Severide," she lies.

And he detects it in her voice, "You're such a horrible liar."

"Kelly," Erin pushes herself to her feet and walks over to the balcony railing, "I'm just a little upset. I'll be fine. I promise. Please don't catch a redeye flight here just because my feelings are hurt and the guy I thought I loved wasn't all I thought him to be."

Erin pressed the phone between her ear and shoulder and reached down to grab the bottle of scotch. Drinking it on an empty stomach was going to be a mistake she knows, but if it distracts her from the guy currently miles away who isn't even thinking about her, then she's willing. She brings the bottle to her lips and takes a swig as Severide's calm voice fills her head, "I won't fly out on one condition," she waits for it, "You have to tell me what happened. And I mean everything, Er. All of it."

A dark chuckle filled her as she took in another swig, rocking unsteadily on her feet as she places her phone on speaker. If he wanted the truth, she'll tell him the truth. Starting from the beginning and not leaving anything out, she tells it all. And he listens quietly, holding back any comments until she finishes. She talks and only pauses to take a chug out of the bottle; it burns. A lot. She hardly ever drank in excess –not since college actually- but the giddiness and freedom she felt was a relief. She leaned against the railing, arms crossed and inhaling the smell of fresh air as she finished, waiting quietly to hear what Severide might have to say.

"You should call him."

While she expected some type of advice, she didn't expect that.

"I'm not going to call him."

"Why not?"

"…because I didn't do anything wrong. He made me feel like shit for doing something nice, Kelly," her voice grows in volume; her neighbors on the floors below her could probably hear, "I felt horrible until I realized that I did nothing wrong! Fuck him. I owe him nothing."

"I agree."

"Then why are you trying to get me to call him?"

"It's not for him," Severide sighed, doing who knows what on the other end of the line, but she hears a lot of movement, "it's for you. His pride is hurt. His ego is bruised. Call him. Or I'm going to worry and then I'm going to buy a ticket and come crash at your place until you do."

"You're the mayor. You can't just do that."

"Watch me…"

Never call Severide's bluff; he'll prove you wrong every time. She took another drink, this time gulping down two swigs until her stomach turned and her stance grew unbalanced. She's tipsy; she's more than tipsy, she's intoxicated. Erin leans her head on the railing and sighs loud enough for him to hear, "Look, I'm not too fond of the guy."

"You haven't even met him."

"Yeah, but I'm normally not fond of jackasses who make my best friend cry."

"He didn't make me cry," she argues just as a tear slips out and makes her a liar.

And Kelly, being her closest friend doesn't call her out on it; he accepts her argument and continues, "You need this. Please, if not for you then do it for me. If I drop what I'm doing, I'll have a city of unhappy people upset with me tomorrow."

"That's pressure," she grips her hand around the railing and tightens her embrace when she felt her legs almost give out, "and fine, I'll call him, but only for you."

"Thank you." Kelly hangs up.

And just as she's reaching for her phone to give Jay a call, there's a light knock on her balcony door. The intruder doesn't wait for her to grant him entrance, Atwater slides the door open the second she looks up. Each of her guards joins her, walking out onto the balcony with unreadable facial expressions crossing their faces. Sorensen takes the unfinished bottle from her hands and she doesn't protest; she's had enough. Dawson hands her a bagel; its starch and it'll definitely put something on her stomach. Roman and Atwater wrap their arms around her and begin to lead her back inside and she knew that she had no choice in the matter.

It makes her want to cry. She loved them so much. Even though there's that fine line between being her secret service and her friends, she loves them for always finding a balance between the two. She's practically carried back into the condo and set on her bed, the phone still in her hands, waiting patiently to be used to dial her boyfriend's number.

"Our shift is over, but I'm going to crash here," Atwater ventures over to her dresser and pulls out a pair of shorts and a tank top, "Roman's going to crash here too."

"You guys don't have to do that."

"We're your guards," Sean reminds her from inside her bathroom; when he reappears, he's holding a small trashcan, "we're supposed to protect you. That means we can't have you dying of alcohol poisoning or choking on your own vomit as you sleep."

She rolls her eyes, "My heroes…"

"I'll be in the guest room at the end of the hallway and Roman will be in the one directly across from me," Atwater informs; his face is stoic as if he's still on the clock, "We'll check in every few hours. Capp is out there on duty now; he'll check in on you every hour."

"That's not your-"

"Hey," Atwater cuts her off, "if you're going to say that's not our responsibility, stop. We're off the clock. We're not here as your guards; we're here as your friends."

And if she wasn't silently crying before, she definitely was now. Here she was sitting on her bed, pajamas on her lap given to her by Atwater, a bagel in her hand given to her by Dawson, a trashcan next to her bed placed there by Roman and the unfinished bottle of scotch gripped tightly and held away from her by Sorensen. She loved them. And she didn't think she told them that enough.

Erin pushed herself to her feet and stumbled a little, but unsurprisingly each of them reached out to balance her, "I'm grateful for each and every one of you."

Each of them smile, but it's Sorensen that responds, "You know we have your back."

"On and off the clock," Roman adds.

"We've been doing it for twelve years now," Dawson includes.

Atwater's arm is around her shoulders, "We're family."

For a long time she's felt alone. She's felt misunderstood and truly isolated. No one understood her and no one really tried. She had Annie, she had Kelly, she did have Jay, but she had her guards too. She's always had them, even when she didn't realize it. Twelv years is a long time. She's 26; they came into her life at the age of 14 when her father became the vice president. She knew them since she was a kid; they've been with her through her hardest times, but it was those times that made them closer, that pulled them out of the stuffy box of secret service and into a more lenient and open one that included friendship.

Erin sniffed, "You guys know I love you, right?"

"How can you not?" Sorensen joked; he was always the joker of the group.

"You're family," Dawson reminds, raising his fist and pounding it against hers. He smirked, knowing how much she hated it but grateful that she was willing to do it just for him.

"Honestly," she takes a small bite of her bagel when she feels her stomach clench up, "I'm closer to you guys than my own brother," she takes another bite, "And I know you guys are only here because you're paid to protect me, but thank you for not doing the bare minimum."

"Like we said," Dawson grabbed the back of her head and pulled her forward to brush his lips against her forehead, "you're family. We got your back Phoenix."

"Now get some sleep," Roman asserts –always the enforcer, "You have a big day tomorrow."

And she did. Whether she wanted to participate in it or not, she had a long list of things to do. So, she didn't argue when her guards turned their backs to her to grant her privacy to change. She didn't dispute when Sorenson pulled back the covers to her bed and she didn't refute when Dawson turned off the lights on his way out of her bedroom. She was surrounded by darkness; her cell phone remained in one hand while her unfinished bagel rested in the other. Erin rolled over to her side and glanced down at the screen to see a text from Severide; _did you call him?_

 _Not yet, -EV_

 _If you want me to come down there, just say the word, -KS_

 _I'm calling now, -EV_

She dials his number and to her shock he picks up after the third ring. She assumed she would be sent to voicemail, but it seems that he was willing to talk. And to her even greater surprise, that anger she felt earlier disappeared the second he spoke, "Hey."

"I'm sorry," she surprised herself with the apology as much as she surprised him.

He inhaled a sharp breath and sighed, "I know. I forgive you. And I'm sorry too. I was pretty harsh. I said some things that I didn't mean."

"We both did."

Erin bit into her bagel, feeling the crumbs of it fall onto her t-shirt, "Are we okay?"

"We're okay. We had our first fight. It happens."

"You're too good for me."

"You're talking to the guy who left a string of broken hearts in his wake."

"I shouldn't have done that without your permission," he's trying to steer the conversation off that topic but she seems to find herself steadily bringing it up, "I'm going to make it up to you."

"How about you make it up to me by calling in one of your guys and telling him to leave you a glass of water and an aspirin on your bedside table?"

"You could have had anything and that's what you choose?" She smiled.

"I care about you," he reminded and the smile on her face dropped.

He _cared_ about her. That's all. He must have realized they were moving too fast and decided to take a step back and go at a slower pace. If she were honest with herself, she would admit that it hurt. It hurt a lot. To go from a night of I love you to a night of I care about you. They were moving backwards; they were distancing themselves. His former self came out to play in an effort to protect himself because she had obviously hurt him as much as he hurt her.

She swallowed hard and returned his sentiment, "I care about you too."

Erin had so much she wanted to say. She wanted to ask about his concert, she wanted to know when she'll see him again, when he'll be able to skype her, when he'll be flying out to his next destination. She had so much to say but she could tell they were scraping for time. She could feel herself being rushed even though no words were said by him. He may have verbally forgiven her, but it didn't feel like it. Just like his I love you spoken to her days ago, his apology and his acceptance of her apology were just words.

She finished the rest of her bagel and brushed her hand across the fabric of her t-shirt, "Maybe…" her eyes closed as she struggled to utter the next words, "Maybe this was a mistake."

"I'm not following…"

She also noticed that he wasn't arguing it. He sounded a bit relieved.

"You're still upset with me," her mouth was dry either because of the alcohol or her nerves, "you can lie and say you're not but it's obvious. I don't think our relationship is a mistake; I just think this phone call is because you're not ready."

"And once again you think you know what I want, what I'm ready for and what I need."

"I think what we both need is for me to hang up before you say something that I can't so quickly forgive," she whispered; her words sounded much louder in her silent room.

"Erin-"

And she doesn't give him the chance to respond because she hangs up. This was a mistake –a huge one. And when he calls back and she sends his call to voicemail, she knows that was the first thing she did right all day. In order to avoid any future calls before they're both ready, she turns off her cell and tosses it over to the window seat. It bounces off the cushion and lands on the floor with a soft thud. Out of sight, out of mind; she has no desire to speak to anyone, not her parents, not Kelly, not Justin, not Annie and definitely not Jay. She needed a break so it's in that moment that she decides to skip all of her duties this Independence Day.

-x-

Jay sat in some poor excuse of a bar in Phoenix, Arizona surrounded by an endless supply of women. Rixton sat to his left, drinking his body weight in alcohol as he flirted with any and everything that was dressed in a skirt. Jay's reputation precedes him; the fact that he's in a relationship seems to be the furthest thing from the minds of the women currently flirting with him. One woman, he forget her name –Candy, Cindy, Carly, something like that- was currently standing between his legs as he sat on the bar stool, facing her as she stroked his biceps and gushed at him about just how muscular he was and how seeing him on television didn't do his good looks and appeal justice. She was stroking his ego –and he didn't mind it one bit.

After consuming two shots, a glass of rum and a glass of scotch, his inhibitions were slowly slipping away. Being with Erin made him vulnerable. And that's one of the biggest things he hated. It's why he avoided relationships. It's why he built himself up to a level of wealth where he made the calls and others listened to him. It's why he always gets his way. It's why he is unable to maintain a strong, long and healthy, romantic relationship. It's why he pushed her away. Loving her made him vulnerable; it took away his independence. It made him miss the good old days with women throwing themselves at his feet. He missed those days. But, he missed her too. And he couldn't have his cake and eat it too.

When C-named girl –he couldn't remember her name to save his life- started tugging on his earlobe with her lips and teeth, he regrettably pushed her off. He didn't mind the touching, the flirting or the caressing, but he had to draw the line somewhere. He swallowed the remainder of his scotch before waving towards the bartender for a refill. And just as his glass started to be filled up, Erin called and he answered without a second thought. The conversation moved along but their normal banter wasn't present. It felt awkward. He apologized because he had to, not because he wanted to. He said what was needed but she saw through it all. And she hung up on him before he even had a chance to argue it; she wasn't in the mood and when she sent his next call to voicemail, he gave up. If she didn't want to speak, then neither did he. Begging was beneath him. She already made him feel vulnerable once; he wouldn't give her the power to do that again. So, he couldn't love her. He had to protect himself and if he were to make the mistake and open himself up to love again then it'll inevitably lead to heartbreak.

No one was privy to see all the sides of Jay; Erin came close and he shot the walls back up before she saw everything. He felt guilty – _guilty_ of all things- for Erin storming out of his hotel room. He never felt guilty, he never loved someone like he loved her and he never apologized, yet he did all of those things in the span of knowing her. He couldn't feel vulnerable again. Jay swallowed back a gulp of the scotch as he waved for C-named girl to come closer; he turned his face and nodded for her to resume. She went for his ear like a craved animal, nipping, biting, tugging, licking and kissing as he sat in the stool, unimpressed and nursing his umpteenth drink.

He had a moment of weakness when meeting Erin and if she wanted to end things, then that was her right. She had every right to do that and he wouldn't stop her; he'll just get lost at the end of a bottle and resume the activities he took part in before he met her.

"Jay," he recognized the unhappy and furious voice of his wardrobe coordinator.

Suddenly he saw C-named girl ripped from his arms, she stumbled back as Kim took her place, standing between his legs with her arms crossed over her chest and her foot tapping like an angry parent. Ruzek was a few feet away, embarrassedly scratching the back of his neck and mouthing an apology to Jay. Apparently, his best friend had disclosed his location to his wife and she was currently present to cock-block any and all opportunities to get over _her_.

"You're coming with me," she snatched the glass out of his hand and slammed it down onto the bar, "let's go," she reached for his arm but he pulled it back.

"I'm not going anywhere. I'm staying right here with," he looked over at C-named girl.

"Colby," she reminded. _Yes!_ That's her name –Colby. He'll have to remember this time.

Kim pouted, the moment of anger gone from her face, "You have a girlfriend." Her words come out desperate, almost like a whine. She's hurt, just like he and Erin are.

"It's probably over between us," he shrugged his shoulders, attempting to act unbothered; "It was fun while it lasted though."

"You don't mean that."

"But, I do."

"No," she uncrossed her arms and stepped closer, "no, you don't because you love her."

This catches him off guard and to numb his nerves he snatches his glass back off the bar top and chugs down the remaining contents from the glass. The tumbler hits the wooden bar top as he motions to the bartender for a refill. He was over this conversation. He wanted C-named girl –Carly, Christy, Candy, damn it he forgot again- but he wanted her back and he wanted her to continue to help him forget. But, it seems Burgess wouldn't let up. She snatched his filled glass of scotch from his hands and slammed it back down, further away from his grasp, "Do you know how I know you love her?"

"I honestly don't care."

She answers anyway, "It's because it's written all over your face. I can tell because of how you look at her, how you talk about her and how you're acting right now because you got into a fight. You love her, Jay! I don't know if you admitted it to yourself or to her, but I know; I can see it."

"Are you done?"

Burgess sighed and nodded. She was done. He was an adult and she couldn't force him to leave with her. She slides his glass back towards him, "If you do this, you'll never forgive yourself," she reached for his hand and gave it a tight squeeze, "you'll be making a huge mistake. That argument between you two, I don't know what it was about, but I'm sure it isn't that serious. You both just need space but you'll end up forgiving each other, but Jay, there are some things that women can forgive, but if you do this, Erin will probably never forgive you."

Kim doesn't wait for a response out of fear what he'll say. She turns and rolls her eyes at Rixton's proud smirk before trekking back over to her husband, snatching her thin jacket from him and leading him out of the bar. He feels a pat on his back, one a proud father would give a son as Rixton rises to his feet, holding the hands of two women he'd been flirting with all night.

Jay is left alone, tending to his drink and Colby as she strolls back over. Her skin tight dress had risen at some point and she moves to stand back between his legs, "We should get out of here."

And he does consider this, especially when she leans in and overwhelms his senses with her perfume. He finishes off his drink and actually makes a decision. To hell with it, he deserves this; he's been a good guy for months. It was about time for him to let loose and disappoint all of those people who had put faith in him. Jay slides his glass over to the bartender, shaking his head to indicate that he was done before turning back to the lady who caught his attention, "His answer is no. So how about you get out of here?"

Colby glances back at Jay, waiting to hear what he had to say. He nods for her to leave, holding up a finger indicating for her to not go too far. She smiles and backs away just as Mouse closes in, angrier than Burgess, "I don't need a babysitter. First Kim and now you, really?"

"I won't let you do that to Erin," Mouse spat, yanking his friend off the stool, "you promised!"

"You shouldn't be surprised that I'm close to breaking it!"

Mouse reaches into Jay's pocket and withdraws his phone, "Call your girlfriend!"

"We already spoke," Jay replied, begrudgingly taking his phone and pocketing it again, "it didn't end well," he shrugs, "We're probably over. Good things don't last, especially for me."

Jay scans the bar, searching for where Colby had disappeared to; she was currently ordering herself a drink with another bartender on staff. He took one step towards her, only for Mouse to yank him back and shove him against the bar counter, "You're hurt over what happened, I'm sorry for that, but it doesn't give you the pass to fall in bed with another woman just to get over the one that hurt your feelings."

"My feelings don't get hurt," he shoves his friend away.

"The macho attitude may work for all the women you bed, but they don't work on me."

"Just leave me alone and let me do what I came here to do."

Halstead moves to walk around his friend, "How would you feel if right at this moment Erin was out at the bar about to hook up with a guy, if she was letting some man kiss on her?" Jay comes to an abrupt stop as he listens, "And her only excuse is that you two are probably over? And she doesn't care about how loyal you are to her across the coast, but because you had an argument, she's justified in seeking comfort elsewhere, with someone else. How would you feel?"

"This isn't about how I feel," he whispered.

Mouse grabs his arm and practically prays that he's getting through to him, "You would be pissed. You would catch the first flight out of here and you know it. Don't do this."

He hates when his friend is right. Jay rips his arm out of Mouse's hold and doesn't look back at his friend as he stomps his feet against the wooden floorboards. Mouse breaks out into a jog, nervous as it appears that Jay is approaching Colby; he catches up to him and walks alongside him, "Where are you going?"

To Mouse's surprise he walks past Colby without giving her a second look, "…to sleep off the alcohol. Hopefully, I can just sleep through the Fourth of July. I'm not in the holiday spirit."

Mouse sighs in relief, trailing behind his friend as he angrily shoves the door open and steps out into the dry Arizona heat. The night only gave it a slight decrease in temperature but not much. He walks alongside his friend, smiling proudly at him, "I'll walk with you."

"I'm not changing my mind if that's what you're afraid of."

"It's not," Mouse asserts, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans, "but you need the company. And I might be a huge fan of Erin, but I'm your best friend. I don't know what happened between you two, but I got your back. I'm in your corner. I'm on your side."

And for the first time in forever, Jay is given the benefit of the doubt. He's not the one obviously at fault because of his record. Halstead bumps shoulders with the bass guitar play as they continue to walk; he doesn't say anything, silence is his reply, but Mouse picks up on it. And he grins, following alongside his best friend to provide the comfort that only an understanding presence could offer. Jay grins, appreciating more than he's willing to admit. Maybe instead of taking advice and listening to Rixton, he should start seeking out the words of Mouse? It wouldn't hurt. It truly wouldn't hurt to have someone who is rooting for your relationship, who would provide that ear to listen without the judgement. Maybe he'll give her a call tomorrow? Maybe if he could put his pride to the side for a second he could honestly apologize? Maybe he should fly over there, surprise her in person, and apologize to her in person? That sounds like a good idea; maybe it'll show her that this is real? Maybe he'll prove to her that he's serious? She said he should fight for her and maybe he will?

"Mouse," his friend looks up at the call of his name, "do you think if I flew to DC and spent a day or two with Erin, Will would freak out?"

"As long as you make it to Vegas in time for the next concert, I don't see why he should."


	23. When You Need Me

Erin had managed to get through most of the day without turning her cell phone on. A world without contact was only short lived because she had duties to do, duties that she tried to avoid, but her brother managed to guilt her into at least a few of them –one being the Independence day concert and fireworks show tonight. Erin had skipped the parade and the reenactment of the American Revolution that took place earlier in the day in order to hide her face from the outside world, from the prying questions of her mother and the constant reminder that today was supposed to be spent with her boyfriend celebrating the country's independence.

Plans never go accordingly.

If they did, she wouldn't be walking into Justin's apartment right now. She would be at home, watching television and ordering takeout. She may even have stepped outside at one point a little later to venture to a park or location –that wasn't the White House- that had a decent fireworks showcase. It may not be on the level of the display at her parents' home, but it was fireworks and when you see one show, you've honestly seen them all.

Justin stood in a bathrobe, a cautious smile stretching across his face as he closed the door behind his sister. Her guards and his remained in the hallway. Erin walked through his apartment, utterly impressed by the neat presentation of his living area. She nodded approvingly as she walked over into the kitchen, "Mom did a great job."

"Mom didn't do anything," he chuckled, following behind her, "all she did was shout orders as me and the few cleaning staff she brought over did the work."

"I stand corrected," she replied, setting herself onto a stool at the kitchen counter, " _You_ did a great job cleaning this place up. I'm impressed."

"Now all I have to do is maintain it…"

Erin set her oversized purse down on the countertop in front of her. She unbuttoned the bag and reached inside for her phone that started vibrating the moment she stepped inside his apartment building. She saw no messages from Jay –not that she honestly expected any. She saw social media notifications that she refused to check. She also saw a few messages from Annie –asking to borrow money- and Kelly. She opened his message up.

 _Have you been keeping up with celebrity gossip? –KS_

She squints, _no and I honestly thought you didn't keep up with it either, -EV_

She sat her phone back into her bag and shuffled it towards the side of her, spotting two magazines flipped over so that the front was now facing down on the counter. She could only see the back of them. Her bag must have covered them up when she set it down.

"So…" Justin spoke up, setting a bottle of water down in front of her, "I've showered; I just need to get dressed. It shouldn't take me long. Then we can head out and face our first children duties."

Erin didn't comment as he disappeared out of the kitchen. She was used to him giving her a time and never being ready by the time he gave her. And he was a fast dresser; that much was proven to be true. Erin crossed one leg over the other, feeling her already short white shorts rise up her thighs. The American flag themed tank top she wore fell a few inches below her bellybutton and if she stretched or made any type of fast movement, it would rise and flash just a hint of her stomach. She didn't care. She was dressed for the occasion and if she knew anything about her mother, it was that Camille already had a change of clothes for her. It was probably a full outfit, decked out in red, white and blue colors that was modest but still showed her holiday spirit.

As Erin sat in the silence of his apartment, she capped open the water bottle and took a sip as she flipped the two magazines over, needing something to do to pass the little time it'll take him to get ready. However, the second she saw the two front pages of the magazine, the water flew out of her mouth and soaked the corners of the pages. Erin lifted one magazine up, eyes wide and scanning the front page. It was a photo of Erin and Jay, an animated split in the middle to hint that the couple had broken up with a headline that implies a break up and tells its reader to turn to page five in order to get the full scoop. And she did just that only to wish she hadn't. She shut the book with a force that actually scared her.

Erin tossed the magazine into her bag only to realize that the second magazine was similar yet a bit different than the last. On the front cover it held a different picture of her and Jay, but a new heading that implied the reason for their _break up_ was because certified bad boy couldn't keep it in his pants. She spotted the page that would guarantee her the full story and flipped to it with a passion she only found herself mustering up when working on a case. Her throat dried in anticipation and she was starting to get a headache as her mind went to the worst case scenario. She knew how the media operated; they would twist things around in order to get a story and she truly loved him so he deserved the benefit of the doubt. Maybe if there was no proof… She wasn't an idiot. In the court of law, you're innocent until proven guilty. You need evidence to prove guilt. A person's word or a rumor wasn't enough; you needed cold, hard facts that couldn't be disproven. Yet, when her eyes landed on the full story page, the magazine slipped from her fingers. She needed proof and she had it.

Proof was in the form of photos.

There were A LOT of pictures. Photographs had surfaced of Jay and an unknown woman inside of a bar in Phoenix, Arizona. The pictures were enough to spark rumors and to actually add a factual basis to them. She heard her cell vibrate and as her eyes scanned each photo, willing her brain to come up with some practical reason why she's looking at photos of a woman with her hands and lips all around her boyfriend, she reached mindlessly inside of her bag to withdraw her cell. It's a text from Kelly and now his earlier inquiry was starting to make sense when she read his new message; _I would respond with a joke but nothing is funny about this, Er. Um, you should call me. I don't want to tell you over text, -KS._

He knows. And if Kelly, the guy who practically refused to tune into celebrity gossip for entertainment knows then that means everyone else knows too. She's an idiot.

Her brother knows too. The tabloids were sitting on his kitchen counter. He must have been having a cup of coffee and reading about the downfall of her very public relationship. She's an idiot. Her brother had intentionally flipped the magazines over in hopes that she wouldn't see the headlines and the photos. There were so many photos. God, she's an idiot.

Erin shoves the second magazine into her bag and drops her phone in afterwards. She didn't feel like talking. Everyone knew, but her. Erin releases a grunt of frustration and hops off the bar stool; her flip flops hit the tiled floor as she stormed towards his front door, not even thinking about giving Justin a warning of her sudden departure. It's not like he gave her any heads up about her boyfriend's infidelity. God, she's an idiot. And her father was right. And he probably knew he was right. And now she would probably have to admit that.

She's pissed. She's angry. She's angry enough to cry or scream if provoked and prodded. He cheated on her because she got him a gig at the holiday concert. She apologized. She's sorry. So so sorry. But, now she's angry too.

She tore open the front door and stepped out into the hall. Justin's guards didn't make a move or motion to acknowledge her presence. She silently thanked them for that. Her guards on the other hand, continued to cross that fine line between personal and professional. They could read her since she was somewhat of an open book, but she didn't want to get into it, not here, not today, not tomorrow, not ever.

Erin pushes through her guards when they start to approach, "Don't follow me," she warned, making her way down the elongated hallway, "I promise I won't leave the building or even this floor. Just don't follow me. I want to be left alone."

Her warning would have worked with her family or even her friends, but it didn't particularly work with her guards. Instead they all eyed each other and nodded for Atwater to follow. And he did, unarguably and with purpose as she stormed down the hallway, took a turn to gather some privacy and walked further down.

Atwater followed slowly and eventually found her crouched down against the wall in the poorly-lit hallway that seemed to have no purpose but to lead whoever may walk along it to an emergency exit. Atwater stopped at the entrance of the hallway for a moment, struggling to find the words to say before approaching.

"Erin…" Kevin whispered softly, not wanting to startle her.

Erin's heart pounded in her chest. Tears welled in her eyes at the sound of his voice, so concerned and worried about her.

She had her head in her hands, crouched down and hunched over, but she looked up harshly when he interrupted her solitude. She sniffled a little but quickly wiped a hand over her face and pushed herself up to stand. And before he could say more, ask her if she was going to be okay, inquire about what happened or offer some type of comfort, she quickly masked her pained face with a smile and moved past him with an airy "I'm okay." However, Atwater never fell for her facade. He firmly, but respectfully grabbed her arm when she tried to walk past him.

"Cut the bullshit Erin. You're not okay. You're far from it. What happened in there?"

Erin looks down at his hand wrapped around her arm, "Please just drop it."

"What happened?" He releases her arm after gently turning her to face him.

"I don't want to talk about it."

She turns to depart, but he forces her to turn back around, "We're not leaving this spot until you tell me what happened."

"Old habits die hard," she shrugged it off nonchalantly.

"What did he do?" He immediately knew who the problem was caused by. He didn't have to ask.

And it was in that moment that she looked up to meet his brown, comforting eyes. This was Kevin Atwater her friend and not Kevin Atwater her guard; he was concerned and he held his word that they would not leave this spot until she told him. He even maneuvered himself in her path of escape in order to ensure she stayed put.

"I don't want to talk about it," she brushed it off once more.

"What did he do, Erin?"

That confidence he saw in her eyes seconds ago had faded away the second she answered, "He cheated on me okay! Everyone was right. Now, can we go?"

He doesn't argue with her; he bounces back into security mode, "Where do you want to go?"

"There's no way I can show my face at the concert tonight," she admits, running her hands through her straight hair, "there will be paparazzi and press there. I can't go. We…we uh we'll have to go watch the fireworks someplace else. There's a park a few miles near my condo, maybe we can go there? I can search it and send Dawson the address."

Atwater didn't have it in him to turn her idea down. He may have to answer to the Chief of Secret Service, but he truly didn't care in the moment. She needed an escape. And he'll give her one that would couple with guaranteeing her safety.

A ghost of a smile hits her lips and she releases a heavy breath, "Thank you."

"Does your brother know you won't be going?" She shakes her head, "Well maybe you should tell him. He's probably wondering where you are right now."

Erin has no intention of going back inside his apartment. She didn't have the strength in her. The moment he saw her face, he would know something is wrong, he would just know and she didn't have the energy to keep her emotions in check. This brings her to pulling out her cell phone, ignoring the few messages from Severide that guessed by her lack of response that she sought out what he didn't want her to find out. She loaded up Justin's name and typed out a simple message that gave nothing away, _I'll be passing on the concert tonight, -EV_

His response was immediate. _What, -JV_

He's disappointed; she can tell that much from his reply. _Why, -JV_

 _I'm just going to watch the fireworks elsewhere, -EV_

Erin knows her brother. She knows he would normally pick and prod until he got a clear answer, but he didn't question it. Instead his response indicated that he must have known why. She took the two magazines he left on the counter; he definitely knew why.

 _I can come with you. You know I'm not too fond of this anyway, -JV_

 _No_ , _-EV_

She honestly wanted to be alone but knowing him, that wouldn't have been a good enough reason. She had to dig further to find a plausible one.

 _One of us has to at least be there, -EV_

And that much was the truth. He didn't argue against it. Instead he accepted it and sent her a reminder of his love for her and the fact that he's always a phone call away if she wants to talk.

Erin pockets her cell and adjusts the strap of her purse around her shoulder. She inhales a sharp breath and turns to find her other guards approaching. Tears still staining her eyes and she wouldn't bet that they were red and puffy. Her cheeks had tear tract marks and the frown on her face felt a little permanent. She watched Sorensen approach, a small, nervous smile on his face as he reached for her sunglasses resting on her head. She knew the next step, this step leaning more towards friendship and campaign managing than actual guarding. He lowered the glasses and with a whisper he replied, "I know you probably hate it when we do this, but just remember that once we're in the car, you can cry as much and as long as you want."

She sniffs, "I know."

"We know you know," Dawson stepped forward, reaching a hand out to grab her wrist, "but it doesn't mean you're okay with it. It's just until the election is over."

"If the news catches wind of you crying, they'll dive into all aspects of your life in order to figure out why," Roman began to explain like he did many times before, "for your safety and wellbeing, we want to avoid that as much as possible. It's just until we get to the car."

"Honestly it's no bother," she straightens her shoulders and paints on a fake smile she wore much too often, "Now let's go and get this over with."

And coincidentally, just as Erin leaves, Jay's plane touches down in D.C.

-x-

It had been hours since she left Justin's apartment, hours since she shut her phone off and hours since she spoke to another person besides the four men who follow her every move. And while it's been hours since all of that, she didn't complain one bit. She enjoyed it, preferred it actually and she was going to bask in it as much as possible.

Erin and her guards had managed to arrive to the park with a few minutes to spare. She's holding a folded blanket as her guards surround her, leading her through the crowd of people towards the front of the park, near the fireworks display. At the last minute, Roman had called the park's security and told him that the first daughter would be in attendance. From the time the phone call was made until now, a spot had been saved for her and more security personnel had been added to the scene. They were out of sight, but they were present. Normally, they notified places days in advance when someone from the first family would be in attendance but since this was last minute, they had to do what was realistically possible to keep her safe.

Roman took a hold of the blanket from Erin's arms and unfolded it, "This is the spot."

She looked around, making eye contact with the people in front, behind and beside her. She took a seat the second the blanket was laid out, "Are you sure this is safe?"

"This is last minute," Sorensen declared, propping himself against the nearest tree; it provided the best vantage point to look around, "If we had the word a little sooner, we probably wouldn't have sat you with general population."

The civilians who sat around her were close; it was a bit crowded, uncontrolled and uncontained. Each of them were within reaching distance of her, but her guards sat around her, blocking her from their close proximity. Atwater sat to her left, bumping his arm against hers until he earned her attention, "Are you still mad?"

"I'm not mad."

Dawson and Atwater made eye contact; Dawson was sitting to her right, his arm occasionally brushing against her other one, "Are you sure? You look a little mad."

"I'm not mad," she repeated.

God, she wished the fireworks would start.

Erin pulled her cell phone out of her purse to find it still off. She had forgotten and while she wouldn't mind using it as a distraction or a tool to pass the time, she didn't want to see what messages and notifications awaited her the moment she turned it back on. She threw it back into her bag with a sigh, "I wish you guys would stop staring. Isn't there a suspicious person around here that you guys should be keeping an eye on?"

"Don't worry about us," Roman reassured; he's the only one of her guards that is seated in the opposite direction. His front is facing the crowd and his back will be facing the fireworks when the show starts. He doesn't seem disappointed that he'll be missing the actual show though; he appears relaxed and content as he shrugs his shoulders in nonchalance, "We've been doing this for over a decade. You learn how to multitask. So tell us why you're mad."

"I'm not mad," she repeats once again.

"Only Atwater actually knows," Sorensen speaks up from his position against the nearest tree, "and he doesn't even know the details. I've always heard I'm a good listener."

Dawson bumps his arm against hers again, "Come on Er. Once you tell us why you're mad, we'll stop bothering you."

"I'm not mad!" She shouts, earning a few questionable eyebrow raises from the people sitting closest to her, "At least I wasn't mad at first, but then you guys asked me like six times if I was mad and now I am!"

"Just talk to us," Roman reaches behind him to squeeze her shoulder.

And she's tempted to give in. She does need to get things off her chest, to clear her mind and she had every intention of doing that later when she got home. She was going to call Severide and vent to him, she was probably going to reassure him that she'll get over this break up like she's gotten over every one in the past and she was definitely going to make sure he didn't take off work and buy a plane ticket on her account. She's not a teenager. She doesn't need her best friend running to the rescue every time a guy breaks her heart.

The sound of the excited voices coming from the crowd was a distraction enough; it took her mind off of her relationship problems until she felt the eyes of each of her guards piercing into the back and the side of her head. She felt Atwater nudge her arm for the umpteenth time and if she didn't desperately want to get things off her chest then she simply would have spoken just to get them to stop nudging her.

This was going to be hard; she was being told to share the inner ramblings of her mind, the reason for the ache in her heart. She was sitting on the edge of the blanket, legs crisscrossed and she found herself thoughtlessly ripping grass shards from the ground, "You guys um," she stared down at the lawn, watching the ground grow darker as the sun continues to set, "you know about Jay cheating. I'm pretty sure Atwater filled you in," they nodded but said no other words, "I saw photos of him and some other girl together and they weren't flattering," she sniffed and looked up to meet one of their eyes –it was Sorensen, "they were pretty incriminating. And my heart says to go talk to him that he deserves another chance because you know, I love him," her eyes flash over to meet Dawson's gaze, "but my head says no because I'll just get hurt again and I'll just unintentionally end up doing something to hurt him because I figure he did that to get back at me, you know what they say, hurt people hurt people," she swallows hard and glances back down at the grass, deciding to rip more shards out of the ground, "Help me. Help me make a decision because I'm drowning here in my own thoughts."

Atwater sighs, lifting his hand to twirl his finger around a few strands of her hair, "We can't uh," he blows out a deep breath, "we can't make that decision for you."

"Then why pretend to be concerned," she brushed his hand away annoyingly, "why even bother asking me what's wrong if you don't particularly care."

"We do," Sorensen defended, sitting up positively straight, "but it's not our decision to make."

Dawson patted her back, "It's yours. We wanted you to vent, to get everything off your chest."

Fortunately for Erin, she never had the chance because a voice spoke through a loud microphone, wishing everyone a happy Fourth of July, welcoming everyone present, thanking them all for coming before surprisingly announcing that she –the first daughter- was even in attendance tonight. Erin was used to the love and even used to the hate but she honestly just wanted the show to start so she could get back home and go to bed.

When the last minutes of the sunset passed, Erin sat up straighter. She saw the fireworks machine being prepped and knew that in any second now, the show would begin. She continues to pick at the grass shards, throwing them to the side as her eyes focus in on the set up of the machine. She was curious about how it all worked; how they loaded the fireworks into it and started it so it would safely set ablaze into an assortment of colors and designs that lit up the sky.

The crowd starts to grow quiet and this draws in her attention because it could only be for one reason –its show time. A spark of light shoots into the air followed by a loud crack thundering and breaking apart into streams of red, white and blue. _Pop._ It's a green firework. _Pop._ It's a yellow firework. _Pop. Pop. Pop._ The night sky is illuminated by more red, white and blue streams of fireworks shimmering amongst the stars. The kaleidoscope of fireworks shoot, scatter and sparkle above them in a rainbow of shades across a wide spectrum of illuminous colors.

One firework after the other is shot into the sky and in this moment she finds the escape she was looking for, the one she craved and needed. She's relieved. She finds herself lost in the sea of green, of yellow, of pink, red, white and blue and she doesn't regret her decision to skip the fireworks show at her parents' house. If she had went, she wouldn't have been as relaxed, she wouldn't have been able to concentrate as hard as she is now.

Fifteen minutes seem to fly by and a few minutes after that the fireworks cease –without the normal finale- but no one questions it. Instead Roman hops to his feet and Erin grabs his hand, allowing him to pull her to her feet, "Thanks," she wipes the grass off her behind, "Was the ending a bit anticlimactic to you? I felt it was lacking. I should have just gone to see the fireworks at the White House."

Everyone is packing up their belongings around them; Dawson lifts the blanket, folds it and tucks it beneath his arm. The crowd is starting to form as they fold their own blankets and gather their foldable lawn chairs. Erin watches the fading smoke from the fireworks machine; she watches the smoke in the sky fizzle out and drift away.

Dawson withdraws the keys from his pocket, "I'll go get the car and bring it around." He readjusts the blanket beneath his arm before squeezing himself through the large crowd.

It was a congested crowd and unfortunately Erin's title alone wouldn't help her get through it faster. Dawson only managed because he had left while everyone was gathering their belongings and now that everyone's possessions were gathered, their kids were held, they were all slowly making their way towards the parking lot, moving at such an excruciatingly slow pace. Roman was in front of her, Atwater was to her side and Sorensen took up the rear.

As they walk, Erin could feel Sorensen behind her, practically pushing up against her to stay as close to her as possible. _Pop_. Everyone hears it. Everyone stops walking. Everyone looks up to see another firework is shot into the sky. _Pop_. And then another. _Pop_. And another. _Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop._ And one would have suspected this was the long and anticipated finale of fireworks if it wasn't for the running crowd, the people screaming and the hands shoving people out of the way. Erin could make out the fireworks machine emitting smoke into the air as the fireworks erupted _inside_ of it. It was overheating. It was malfunctioning. And people kept pushing, stepping on her toes, screaming in her ear and yanking her.

She hears her name being called; she hears her guards threaten the people around them as they search for her. She realizes in that moment that the people in front and beside her she doesn't recognize. Roman and Atwater disappeared. They were pushed away from her or she was pushed away from them. She felt a hand wrap around her arm, "I got you."

It's Sorensen. She's relieved to know that one of her guards is with her. It's a stampede of people running, some falling and being stomped over. She lost one of her flip-flops in the rush but she's too worried to care. She hears more popping and sirens approaching in the distance. The fireworks machine is still emitting fireworks but they're not reaching the sky. It's backed up and the sounds are coming louder and louder as if in any moment it'll go off. She trips.

The palms of her hands hit the ground and send a bolt of pain up her arm. She feels Sorensen's grip tighten as he tries to pull her to her feet, "Come on. We have to keep-"

His words are cut off the second he launches himself over her body. The fireworks machine had caught on fire and fireworks were shooting in all directions. It was going up, down, forwards and backwards. People were getting injured either because they were hit with a firework or stomped on by a scared civilian. Sorensen is lying over top of her, shielding her body with his own. His hands cover her head, his own face protecting the back of hers, and every part of his body is guarding some part of hers. She's crying or at least on the verge of tears.

"Sorensen," her voice is cracked; she doesn't know if she whispered it or shouted it.

"Keep your head down," he ordered; the friendliness in his tone no longer present. The fine line between guard and friend was as clear as day; it's cemented right now, hard, dark and present as he protects her with every part of him.

Erin feels the pressure; she feels some of her body parts seep into the ground as people literally run over them. And she wants to cry out because it hurts just a little bit, it's an aching pain that passes, but she knows it's only because Sorensen is taking the brunt of it. She sniffs, "Sorensen."

This time he doesn't respond. And her throat gets dry, her eyes blink rapidly and her face turns red. She tries to lift herself up but the feeling of his dead weight on her body is just too much. The sirens are close enough to be here. The fireworks stopped popping but the smoke surrounding the park is as thick as ever. Suddenly she feels his weight disappear; he's rolled over onto a gurney beside her and in the next second she's lifted and thrown over Atwater's shoulder.

Erin felt frozen and practically stunned into silence as she was draped over her guard's shoulder and forced to watch the people around them as she's carried away. She sees injured civilians and others who are trying to calm themselves down. It's over. At least the danger part is. What exactly had just happened? Eventually she is lowered onto the back of the ambulance and a paramedic is examining her before she even registered that she's no longer tucked under Sorensen. She feels the guy open her eyes and flash a light into them; he asks her questions and somehow she answers. She gets the thumbs up; she's fine.

But what about Sorensen?

Erin pushes the paramedic away and steps down. She searches the crowd until she sees him, he's lying on a gurney and he's unconscious. Erin runs over with Atwater and Roman hot on her heels, trying to keep her safe even in the current condition of their fellow guard. She feels Roman wrap his arms around her, holding her at his side as the paramedics do their job, "Hey, hey, he's in good hands," he whispers into her ear, "You have to let them do their job."

"Mike covered me," Erin exclaimed, vision blurring because of the tears building in them.

"And he would do it again," Atwater reassured, turning her around to face him, "the news has gotten wind of what happened. They'll be here any second now. We need to get you home. Your parents have been calling my phone like crazy."

"But Mike…"

"…is going to the hospital," Roman finished off, "We'll visit him later."

"Someone has to go with him. Can we just follow the ambulance to the hospital?"

Atwater sighed, drawing her into his arms, "We know you're worried but it's too chaotic right now. And we cannot guarantee your safety in chaos."

"You can't guarantee my safety in a lack of it either!" She snapped and she felt him stiffen; her life has never been in danger like this in all the years they've guarded her, "I'm sorry. I know you guys did your best, but if I can't go to the hospital then you should. He shouldn't be alone."

"We'll go once we drop you off."

Erin didn't want to, but she agreed. And she was practically carried to the truck and driven home, her phone back on and on her lap, watching the breaking news and the top trending on every social media app. And the second she takes in the headline and shuts her phone back off, Jay gets the news. He had already been settled into his hotel room, wondering when was a good time to reach out to Erin, but with his television on and his phone constantly lighting up, there was no way he wouldn't hear about what happened. He sees the breaking news headline on every single television channel and he would normally click through it; he wasn't one to pay attention to the news but when he hears his girlfriend's name, it draws in his attention. And he blanks. All he hears is that she was present during a fireworks show and there was a dangerous mishap with the machine.

He focuses back in and takes in bits and pieces of the reporter's sentences. _It's too early to tell_. They didn't know if she was hurt. No one was dead. _21 people injured_. He didn't know –actually no one knew- if she was one of them. And if it was possible for him to feel like the world's worst boyfriend and the planet's biggest jerk, it was now, it was today and it seems most of social media was in agreement.

-x-

Jay was in a desperate panic. He felt a pain he has never felt before rip through his chest and clench his heart. Erin meant so much to him; he didn't know what he would do if she wasn't okay and she didn't forgive him. He wanted, no needed, another chance and if she came out of this unscathed, he would try his absolute hardest to be the man that she deserves, the man that would make her proud and earn her father's acceptance. He was terrified; each time his call went to voicemail pushed him closer and closer to the edge. Even if she didn't want to work on their relationship, even if she wanted nothing to do with him, he just needed for her to be safe.

The elevator doors opened and he was met with four unfamiliar faces, each belonging to a secret service member. He didn't recognize any of them. He couldn't read them. Their eyes were covered by the dark shades they wore; their expressions indecipherable. Neither one of them gave anything away. He pushed through them all, even as they grabbed for him and tackled him to the ground, he didn't stop fighting. He kicked, he hit, he grunted and groaned as he pleaded for them to let him go, "I just…" he's out of breath, "I just need to see her. I need to know if she's okay. Can you at least tell me that? Is she alright? Is she hurt?"

None of them spoke. Two of the four men lifted him from the ground and shoved him towards the wall, "Arms out and spread your legs apart."

Jay did as he was told. He would do anything if it brought him one step closer. He calmly –or as calmly as he could manage considering the circumstances- spread his arms and legs. His muscular chest was heaving, rising up and down as he tried to steady his heartbeat, "Where's…" he's still out of breath, "where are her guards?"

"Hospital," one of the men answered in such an unemotionally detached voice.

"The…the what?" He heard correctly, but he couldn't, didn't want to believe it. They would never intentionally leave Erin's side; if they were there then that meant she was too. Jay dropped his arms when the guard gripped his shoulders and turned him around, pushing him against the wall with a force that would surely leave a bruise tomorrow. He raised his arms again as the man pat him down from the backside.

Moments later he was released and the men moved back to stand in their position as if nothing had occurred. They were on the clock, listening out for signs of danger and watching the elevator for signs of intruders. Jay took that as his opportunity to approach the door. His fist was shaky, his throat was dry and if he didn't feel vulnerable before all of this, he truly felt it now. She had to be okay. She had to be okay. If she wasn't…

He couldn't think about that. He had to know. And based on the number of text messages and missed calls from his band, they needed to know too.

Jay knocked, hard and loud to ensure that if she was inside, in any room that she would hear. He didn't care if it woke her up, he wasn't concerned about bothering her because he needed to see her desperately. He needed to touch her, hold her, kiss her to make sure she's real, to make sure she's alive and well, untouched, unhurt and unbothered. He needed her more than he needed air right now. It actually felt as if he hadn't taken a breath since he heard the news. So, when the door opened, he finally inhaled after a long moment of holding it, of allowing his lungs to burn and ache in their attempt to force him to breathe, but when the person who opened the door wasn't Erin, he released his breath, disappointed and even more upset.

"May I help you?" It was Camille.

And Jay knew she probably didn't think highly of him right now considering the whole mess that was the Independence Day concert. In fact, she looked miffed. She didn't like him. Whatever points he earned before at her father's birthday dinner had all disappeared. Her body blocked the entrance of the door, her face was scrunched up and frown lines appeared almost instantly the second he spoke, "Is uh…is Erin here?" He hoped he didn't sound desperate, but in reality, he was. He needed her back in his arms. He needed to hold her; he needed to do whatever he could to make things right, to make her feel better.

Camille didn't speak. She didn't move either. She made no motion towards him that would answer his question. Instead, he watched one lonesome tear escape her eye and trickle down her cheek. He watched it; he followed the tear with his eyes as it trailed down to her chin before being wiped away with the back of her hand. His heart froze. What did that mean? He needed to know what was going on. The news was still getting reports of the number of people wounded; no one was killed, but quite a few people were badly injured from the stampede of people trying to run to safety. Was Erin one of them? What about her guards?

Jay scratched behind his ear, "Please Camille, I'm drowning here. I need to know something. I need to see her. _Please_."

Finally, Camille nodded. She made no move to step out of his way but she did open her mouth to speak, "I see you heard about what happened on the news. She's as okay as one would expect. She's a little shook up and I don't blame her, but she's hurt," she notices his eyes widen, "not physically speaking, just…just hang here for a minute."

Jay nodded. He could wait. He stood back by Camille's guards as he processed the little information he was given. The idea of her scared and hurting because of what happened at the celebration and because of him shredded his heart. He _needed_ to see her so bad. He almost fell into bed with another woman the night before and now this…she was paying for his mistakes. She was suffering because of him. She didn't go to the celebration at the National Mall probably because of him, because of the things he did and said, and now this. Something like this happened to a woman who didn't deserve it. He did. He should have been with her. Maybe he could have kept her safe? Maybe he could have kept her far away from that place? Maybe he needs to do better?

Fortunately, he didn't have to wait too long thinking about the ways in which he screwed this up because while expecting Camille to return to let him in, it was Erin he saw. And she looked beautiful. Dressed down and completely relaxed, she was absolutely stunning. Erin's brunette hair was straight, completely lacking her usual waves. She must have flat ironed it for the event. She was dressed in a baggy, gray sweatshirt with her alma mater written on the front and black leggings with all hints of makeup washed off her face. He could see the circles under her hazel eyes; she had been crying. She _still_ was crying.

And she wouldn't meet his eye.

Jay stepped inside and shut the door behind him all while his eyes focused on her. He refused to pull them away out of fear that she'll disappear. He knew she wasn't perfect. Perfection is a concept that is absolutely impossible to measure. But to him, she came as close to it as humanly possible. He reached out for her, he needed to hold her, touch her and hug her, but she stepped back. Her eyes remained focused on the floor, staring at her toes cushioned by the carpet.

" _Baby_ ," his voice croaks when he speaks to her for the first time, "I _need_ you to look at me."

She didn't. He took a step forward, but this time she didn't take one back. He reached for her and he gave a relieved sigh when she didn't pull away. He stepped as close to her as possible.

"Look at me," he urges gently, running a soothing hand along the side of her face; his lips brushed across her forehead, lingering there for seconds before pulling them away. It takes a lot of effort on her part to actually follow through on his request. She shifts and tilts her head up enough to meet his eyes. And she thought she was stronger than this; she didn't expect to actually tear up. She thought she was never going to see him again. She moves her hand to wipe it away but he gets to it first, using the hold he has on her head and his thumbs resting against her cheeks to brush them away.

Concern is clearly evident on his face and with good reason. His thumbs brush against the fresh tears that littered her cheeks, "Are you all right?" He mentally bashes himself –such a dumb question. Of course she's not all right.

And even though they both know that, it doesn't stop her from nodding and smiling to falsely back up her claim. She wasn't all right. He knew that.

"Sorensen," her voice cracks; her hands are at his chest, clenching onto the fabric of his shirt, "he got hurt," her chin rested against his chest, angling her head up to look at him, "I…I want to see him, but I can't, so I sent my guys with him! He…he covered me," she buried her face in the fabric of his shirt, soaking the material with her tears, "I fell and he covered my body with his. I couldn't get away and it's my fault that he got hurt!"

Suddenly he's wrapping his arms around her, holding her tight and if he squeezed any harder she would physically break in his embrace. He's holding her tight, backing her up into the living room until she's seated on the couch. When she sits, he's forced to unravel his arms from around her, losing the connection that he craved only moments ago.

"It's not your fault," he sighs, falling fully to his knees before her, "He was just doing his job."

His grin is enough to make her feel somewhat better. He stares up at her, love in his eyes. All he'd been able to think about was that he regretted this whole fight, it was stupid. It wasn't worth it. He's grateful to Mouse; he would have royally screwed this up if it weren't for him. He's glad for Erin, without her he wouldn't be facing his demons, he wouldn't be recognizing the areas that he needed to change. He rested his hands upon her knees, staring into the watery eyes that expresses her concern for her guard, "I…I know he wa..was doing his job, but that doesn't mean it's not my fault. He was hurt and I can't even go to the hospital because it's too chaotic and poses a risk to my safety. That's a bunch of bullshit."

"I'm sure your guards will keep you updated," he asserts, taking Erin's hand firmly in his, "You might want to turn your phone on though so their calls can actually come through."

"Sorry about that," she admits, reaching over to grab her cell. In seconds, it's turned back on.

"I understand. We just needed some space."

"I just need a reset button for today."

He smirks, "I need one for this whole week."

Once Erin's phone buzzes back to life, she eagerly waits for a notification to come through. When it's fully turned on, the sound of her text message tone repeatedly starts to go off. Her notifications are coming in, back to back, over and over, waiting for her to respond. She scrolls through most of them, and he waits in anticipation for an update. And when she sighs in relief, he knows that Sorensen will be fine; he will get better and if Jay were with him, he would thank him. He felt he owed the man a favor; he was in his debt whether Sorensen knew it or not. Erin tapped her fingers against the keyboard on her phone screen before clicking it off and setting it to the side, "He's going to be okay," she meets his eyes and bites down upon her lip, "he has a concussion, a sprained ankle, a few bruised ribs and a dislocated shoulder but that was popped back into place. He'll be out of work for a few weeks, but he's okay."

"That's great."

Jay leans forward and pulls her back into his arms, back into the place where he needed her to be the most. He inhaled the scent of her hair, a mixture of nature and her natural scent combined being the perfect calming affect that he needed. He felt her body relax. Knowing that Sorensen was okay provided her with that sense of relief. And he was grateful for that. Jay tightened his embrace, wanting to hold her for as long as possible until either his arms ached or she started to complain. The feeling he got in knowing her guard was alive and would be okay was indescribable; he couldn't even imagine how it must have felt for Erin and her other guards.

His phone vibrated in his pocket and he knew that he should respond; he should give his band the word that she's okay, but he couldn't bring himself to withdraw his arms from around her. He had to make things right first. They both deserved that much. And he knew the lawyer in her wouldn't just take a simple apology without an explanation; she would have questions and the only way to earn her forgiveness would be to provide honest answers.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there," he feels her body tense in his arms, "And I mean that. If I could-"

She pulls away, ending their hug, "If you could what? If you could have been there," she guesses and he nods, "if you would have been there, I wouldn't have been there."

"I know."

"Jay, I couldn't bring myself to go to that damn concert because it would make me think of you and this stupid argument between us."

"I'm sorry about that."

The apology isn't enough for her. She pushes herself to her feet and storms over to grab the unfinished glass of wine her mother had poured for her before Jay arrived to settle her nerves. She lifts the glass and drains half of its contents, giving her just the push she needs to get everything off her chest. She slams the glass back down, the red wine left inside swishes around the inside of the glass. Erin grips the counter and pushes herself away from it, "Jay Halstead," she mutters, dragging her bare feet over to the floor to ceiling windows in her condo, "I can't read you. I can't understand you. I don't know what you want. You confuse the shit out of me."

"I'm not trying to confuse you."

"But you do," she snaps, drawing open the curtains, "You confuse me. You say one thing but your actions prove another. You want the slot in the Independence Day concert, but the moment you get it –with help from me- you turn into a man that I've never seen before. You pull me in your arms and say you never want to lose me but you constantly push me away! You yell at me for using my connections to get the things I want when you do that all the fucking time! You say you love me and the next second you're scolding me and only using the terms 'I care about you' to express your affection for me! I can't do the back and forth. It's early enough in our relationship where if we end it now, it wouldn't hurt too much."

"I don't want to end things."

"…then be honest with me," her words came out loud, high-pitched and brash; she's pissed. And maybe it's not fair to him because she's yelling at him using the pint up emotions from the night and from the days prior. But, maybe it's fair enough because most of the anger she's feeling is a direct result of her relationship with him? She walks over to him, "for once. Just be honest."

"I am honest with you."

She draws back, stepping away with such force that it makes him nervous. He knows not to approach her, especially with her like this. He's actually nervous. She saw a side of him in Los Angeles that she's never seen before and now it's his turn to see a new side of hers; it's a side that he would much rather not see again.

"The night I left California, you were angry and it wasn't just because I asked my mom to get you a slot in the concert. What else made you angry?"

"I…I…"

"Honesty, Jay, honesty," she muttered, lowering her voice to ensure that her mother didn't overhear from the guest bedroom, "relationships last because the people involved make a choice to keep it, fight for it and work hard on it. I need honesty."

"You know I have commitment issues." She did know that.

Erin glances over at the threshold that led to the hallway of guest bedrooms. Her mother was staying the night; she wanted to be near her daughter. When Erin hears no sound coming from the direction, she turns back to face Jay; he waits for her to say something, anything, but she doesn't. Instead she walks past him, storms into her bedroom only to return later, throwing two magazines at his chest. She says nothing; she just waits patiently for him to look at the cover page of one and flip through to page five in the other. It was when he examined both of the celebrity news headings before she spoke, "I do know you have commitment issues," she walks back over to her unfinished glass of wine, "but falling into bed with the first available girl you see the _second_ we have a fight, really? I'm such an idiot. This must all be a game for you. Is that how you were able to bed so many women? You take them out on the town, invite them to a concert or two and tell them you love them. And I fell for it. How could you?"

"Erin, I didn't sleep with her," he retorts, tossing the magazines onto the ground.

"I saw the pictures. You might not have slept with her, but you let her touch you, kiss you. You gave her and everyone watching the impression that you were available."

"I didn't want to admit it, but I was hurt," he desperately tries to explain; she was slowly slipping away from him and he couldn't let that happen, "I hate feeling vulnerable and when I…when I admitted to you that I was in love with you, I felt vulnerable. I felt like all the power I had to protect myself disappeared the second I let you in. I felt like my independence diminished the moment you got me that gig. I just felt…I just felt like a new person and I didn't like it."

"So you tell me and we work on it together!" She shouts after swallowing the last of her wine, "You tell me," she slams the empty glass back down, "you don't go gallivanting through the night in search of a hook up!"

"I didn't sleep with her!"

"But you wanted to," she states matter of fact, "you wanted to otherwise those pictures wouldn't exist. Just admit it. That's why you went to the bar and that's why she was all over you."

"Erin…"

"Everyone either thinks we broke up or that you're cheating on me!"

"I don't care what people think," he argued, attempting to tame his growing anger, "only you," he points both fingers at her, "I only care about what _you_ think."

She scoffed, "You want to know what I think?" He doesn't this time, but he refuses to stop her; he deserves her wrath so he'll take whatever she dishes out. Erin turns to face him, "I think you came pretty close to sleeping with her. I think that the _only_ reason you didn't is because your friends intercepted you to probably hold up your changed image. I think I was merely a pawn to boost sales. I think you're a cheater and if I allow myself to continue to fall for you, to continue to love you, then I'll be the one with a broken heart in the end."

"That's not fair."

"I didn't create your reputation, so please don't be mad at me for knowing about it!"

"I'm trying here! Shouldn't that count for something? I'm not used to commitment."

"It isn't hard Jay. Being faithful is not hard!" She snaps, shoving past him as she goes to pick up the magazines, "if you were truly in love with me, you wouldn't do anything to screw it up."

Jay swallowed roughly; his phone continues to vibrate in his pocket, "Regardless of my actions, I do love you Erin. I truly do."

"How can you possibly claim to love me when you go out and attempt to sleep with another woman? Love is an unconditional _commitment_ to an imperfect person," she quotes, carrying the magazines over to the trashcan, "Please don't use that word if you don't actually mean it. I won't be insulted. It will not hurt my feelings. Just be honest with me, _please_."

"I do though. I've never felt like this about anyone before and I mean never."

"…then why didn't you stop her? Why did you let her kiss on you?"

He opened his mouth to speak but he quickly shuts it back. She didn't want to hear what he had to say but she didn't interrupt him when he finally did talk. She let him speak his peace. She was a little curious about how he'll defend himself. His look was almost pleading. The tone of his voice matching the desperate look on his face, "I figured we were over."

"You _figured_ we were over? If that's the case then why are you here now?"

"Because I realized I'm an idiot," he admitted and for the first time since they started arguing, she agreed, "because I was reminded of what I have and what I didn't want to lose," he took a deep breath and a cautious step towards her, "I do love you, Er. I do. It's just really hard for me to always show it. I'm not good at this and I kind of freaked out because of how fast we were moving. We've been together almost four months and I already love you so there's no telling how much that love will grow for you by next month or the month after that. It scared me. I was losing myself. I felt like I was losing my independence. Any time I was in the news, you were mentioned and the same vice versa. It's like we couldn't be talked about without the other one being mentioned," he took another small step towards her, "I felt vulnerable with you. Giving you my heart gave you the ability to break it and I didn't want anyone having that much power over me. I'm sorry, love. I just didn't want to tell you because I didn't want to appear weak."

"Admitting your problems wouldn't be a sign of weakness Jay," she whispered, taking her own step towards him, "it's a sign of maturity."

Jay carefully brought his hands forward to grip her upper arms in a nonthreatening manner. He didn't want to spook her and he definitely didn't want her to draw away. When she didn't, he deemed that a success, "Erin, I royally fucked things up."

"I won't argue that."

"I hurt you," he whispered, "and that was never my intent."

"You pissed me off too. And you disappointed me."

"Disappointments are a result of expectations," his hands ran up and down her arms in an attempt to provide heat to her already warm limbs, "I can't measure up to those."

She studied his face intently before suddenly dropping her shoulders and losing the tension that had built in her muscles, "You're right. And I'm sorry about that. I'm sorry about a lot of things. I'm sorry for overstepping."

"Does that mean you'll give me another chance?"

She steps out of his arms again. Her arms go behind her back and one hand grabs the wrist of the other, "I don't just hand out second chances, okay?" he nods and she continues, "They're a privilege, not a right or a hand-out," he nods again, "Jay, I want to be the one who makes you smile, the _only_ one you kiss, the _only_ girl who gets to feel your touch and fall asleep beside you," when he nods again, she gives him a small smile, "I don't like to share what's mine."

Erin smiled. Jay smiled wider.

And he pulled her back against him, back into his arms and she didn't fight it. She pressed her face against his chest and sighed when his hand ran up and down her back in soothing circles. They hold onto each other, the only words shared between them are his praise that she's alright. Regardless of their argument, he still thinks about it, he still thinks about the fear he felt when thinking of the unknown. Not knowing whether she was okay drove him crazy; it had his heart palpitating. He hugs her tighter, his face burying into the crook of her neck. He shudders against her and presses kisses to the valley of her neck, his breath warm and ghosting over her skin as he repeatedly whispers, "I love you. I love you. I love you."

"Still?"

His fingers moved to trace the outline of her mouth, "More."

"…even after I basically ripped your head off?"

His thumb dragged across her lower lip, "It'll take more than that to push me away."

"I'm glad that you flew all this way," she whispered, pressing a kiss against his thumb that continued to slowly trace along her bottom lip, "I may not have said it earlier but I am."

"Nothing could have stopped me from coming. I'll always be here when you need me."

"Good because I missed you."

Jay's hand cupped her cheek once again and he leaned into her, "I missed you too," and his lips claimed hers in a carnivorous way; it's hungry, it's desperate, it's gut-wrenching and hard. And as his hands reached down, cupping her backside and pressing her harder against him, she giggled, "My room," her voice was low and raspy, "and you have to be very quiet. My mom's in the guestroom; she's spending the night."

"I can be quiet," he muttered against her lips, kissing her as they maneuvered towards her bedroom, "but I have a lot in store for you tonight, so the question is, can you?"


	24. Because of You

Erin could barely keep her hands off of him ever since she saw the photo he posted of her on all of his social media accounts. It was of her reading a case file, highlighter in one hand and adjusting her reading glasses with the other. It was a candid shot; his flash was off and his volume was low. It was a shot that captured her in her essence without her knowledge. And if that wasn't already sweet, the added caption only made it better.

 _Only have eyes for her._

His caption started to trend and relationship goals hashtags began appearing beneath the photo. She however was the last to find out about it. Paparazzi had approached her, with questions wondering if that post meant to squash the rumors about him seeking his pleasures elsewhere. It was trending on all social media sites and it was the hot topic of celebrity gossip. A known bad boy suffering from commitment-phobia was staking his claim for the world to see; he didn't leave their relationship unknown to his fans and the spectators of the world. He asserted his dominance and used his platform to basically tell the world that yes they are together, no they haven't broken up and he's in this for the long-haul.

And she couldn't have asked for more.

And for someone who claims to not be good at relationships, he seems to be improving. It's a mixture of his social media post and the fact that he's leaving soon that has her flustered, hot and on the verge of stripping down and taking him in public –fuck the consequences. However, she had more self-control than that; her restraint was impressive and her discipline even more so. But, all of that broke, the barrier and the fine line that kept her as America's sweetheart crumbled away the second they entered her condo.

This time they're both rough; it's because he doesn't know when he'll be able to fly out and visit her again. His schedule is pretty tight in the approaching weeks and it feels more like a farewell, it feels close to a longtime goodbye. Over the last few days they were slow, sensual and passionate and embracing every second, but today, time wasn't on their side and he had to leave eventually so he's rougher, more desperate and impatient. They barely made it through the door after breakfast before he had her pressed against the nearest wall, pinning his body against hers as she worked the mechanisms of his belt.

He wants her, he needs her now. He's an impatient man who never prided himself on patience at any point in his life. And she believed that to be true; the evidence of his impatience is pressed against her thigh, waiting to be freed from his jeans and boxers. He grinds himself against her and catches her heavy sigh in a desperate kiss, "I'm going to fuck your brains out."

And she believed him.

And every part of her hoped he did.

Erin successfully unbuckles his belt and grips her fingers through the loops of his jeans before tugging him towards her bedroom. The last thing she needed was her guards to hear the pleasant sounds her boyfriend was about to have her make through the walls of her condo. She tugs pretty hard, definitely rough as she leads him into her bedroom, biting down seductively upon her bottom lip the second he kicks her door shut.

She was going to be sore after this. Based on the look in his eye, she's going to be bedridden. And she didn't mind at all.

Erin falls backward onto the bed, crawling back as he crawls above her. He leaned down, pressing his lips against hers once more, and for the first time, she felt her heart and her brain tugging her in two different directions. It was a fleeting feeling, one that didn't stick around too long, especially after he tugged down upon her shorts, sliding them over her smooth legs. He pressed another kiss against her lips; this one slow and drawn out before taking the opportunity to kiss further down her body, opening her thighs wider apart to look at her. Jay grinned fiendishly as he hovered above her ankles, "I have to leave in a few hours but I'm going to make sure you remember this," he kissed the inside of her ankle, "I'm going to leave you sated so you'll be content until I can finally come back," he begins kissing up her leg and she waits with bated breath as his mouth hovers above her aching core.

And the way he tore her underwear off and dived in, she knew he had every intention of keeping his word. It's why she stopped hesitating; it's why she buried the thought of the last few days to the farthest corner in her mind. This man was a beautiful and definitely wanted distraction and she was going to enjoy every second of being in his arms. She felt the wonders of his lips, his tongue works magic and all she could do was dig her fingers into the sheets and bite down upon her lower lip. If he tried any harder, she would definitely tear skin and she wouldn't care.

She rose higher and higher with the pleasure and passion of his mouth on her, swirling and feeling but when he sensed her approach her climax, he pulled away. And an instant pout formed on her lips, " _Jay_!" The grin that appeared on his face stretched a mile wide when he heard his name fall from her lips. He found himself addicted to it.

" _Jay_! What?" He chuckled at the frustration in her voice before diving back in.

Erin always found herself lost whenever he took her like this, providing her a selfless pleasure as the lust drove him mad with yearning. He was greedy for her. He was a man of little words, using actions to tell her what his words couldn't say. He built her up, pushing her towards the edge of climax before toppling her over. She arched her back off the bed, her fingers tearing and yanking at his hair as he eased her back down carefully. She was out of breath, yet it didn't stop her from speaking, "Jay," he looked up when she started talking, pausing briefly before continuing the motion, "Jay!" Her voice was more assertive and the tug she made at his hair was more aggressive as she pulled him back up. He hovered above her, grinning madly before pressing his lips against hers in a sloppy peck.

Lying beneath him, Erin manages to discard herself of her tank top, throwing it over towards the wall before wrapping her arms around his neck, "I hope your band won't be too mad at you for flying all the way here and spending a few days with me."

"I'm not too worried about them," He said before setting his mouth on her. The last thing he wanted to think or talk about was his band. All he truly missed in the days he was here was rehearsal and he'll fly back in time to participate in the next one.

Jay halted all movements. He stared down at her flushed face and closed eyes. His hand drifted down her body, unclasping her bra from the front and smiling even wider as it opened up. He was a man on a mission with limited time; he knew he would have to save those for another day. Jay traced his fingers along the side of her face, ghosting the pad of his thumb along her jawline, "When I take you, I want your eyes on me," she reopened her eyes at his order, "I want you to watch everything I do to you."

Erin nodded. No coherent words are able to form. She's speechless. She's patient. She waits and waits for him to do something and when he doesn't, her patience quickly manifests into impatience, into a form of irritation that has her wanting him even more.

"I love you," she whispers, suppressing the irritation the moment his lips press against the crook of her neck, passionately trailing against her flesh. Erin arched towards him, seeking more.

Jay growled his approval at her word choice. He loves her too. He knew that even if he feared it.

His lips trailed up her neck before pausing and hovering against her ear, tongue coming out to play against the lobe of her ear for a few seconds, "I'm yours and your mine." He was possessive, especially when it came to her. Erin nodded.

She arched into him again, "Yes, yes, I'm yours, you're mine; got it, but if you don't-"

And before she could deliver the empty threat, Jay thrust himself inside of her.

-x-

Erin is sore. That was the simplest way she could put it. She was sore after round number three yet she didn't mind when he went for a fourth and eventually a fifth over a four hour time period.

She was currently cuddled into his side; his arm draped around her shoulders, her leg tangled between his and her head comfortably resting against the center of his bare chest. It was the picture of domesticity. No cares in the world and no place to be…at least not in the moment. In two or three hours they would have to head out; Erin needed to run him to the hotel he's been staying at for the last few days in order to check out and then run him to the airport.

They had many things to do, but right now in this moment, they would embrace the break and enjoy each other's company. Jay had a flight to catch. He also needed to go by his hotel room, collect the few garments he left there and checkout. Erin promised to drive him and after a little compromising and persuasion of her guards, she managed to win them over. They had the morning to spend together and a little bit of the afternoon before his flight was set to take off.

His fingers trailed up and down her arm, sending tingles of tickles through her body, "I hate that I have to leave you so soon after the accident."

"It's been a couple of days," she whispers; her breath ghosting and warming his chest as she angles her head upwards to look at him, "I'm fine. It's Sorensen I'm worried about."

"It still feels too soon."

Her fingers draw nonsensical patterns on his bare chest, "Are you looking forward to Vegas?"

Her head shifts when he shrugs his shoulders, "Not really I guess; I've been so many times it gets a little old. And besides, I'll be leaving you and my schedule is a little tight. I don't know when I'll be able to fly back here to see you."

"Where are you going after Vegas?"

"I have to fly to Atlanta for a concert and then Miami at the beginning of August."

"We can always video chat," she presses her lips against his chest, "the time difference is like three hours, right?" When he nods, she continues, "we'll figure it out."

"Skype date tomorrow?"

"I have work and then a charity auction. What about the day after?"

"It's my concert, unless we do it in the morning?"

"I have to work in the morning. I'm free at night though."

"I can't do night."

A silence falls between them. This long distance relationship thing isn't going to be easy. It's going to take a lot of work and effort. What little space was left between their cuddled bodies was closed by her body the second she shuffled in.

"What about the day after? I can probably call you on my lunch break."

"What time is that usually?"

She looks upward in thought, "Um…around twelve or one."

"It'll be nine or ten; I can't. I have a flight to Atlanta to catch. What about the day after that?"

She sighed, "I promised to go with Sorensen to physical therapy. He hasn't been cleared to return to work until he's healed and gets approved by his physical therapist. And after that I have a doctor's appointment. I'm assuming the day after that you're busy?"

"I have a radio interview and some sponsorship event Will talked us into going to."

"The day after that I have a dentist appointment in the morning and then court in the afternoon."

"And the next three days after that I have rehearsal at the venue and then the following day is the actual concert so that day will be pretty jam packed."

Erin sits up; the bed sheet falls to her waist and she's staring down at the blanket, pulling at a loose strand of fabric, "So far it sounds like we won't be able to video chat at least until the end of next week. I guess we can always text."

"Our schedules suck," he grumbled, rolling onto his side, "We'll figure this out."

"We won't be able to hear each other's voices until the end of next week."

"Unless," he sits up this time, "we call each other."

"We're both too busy to answer."

He shrugs, "That's why we'll leave a voicemail. I can hear your voice and you can hear mine. You can save the message too if you're that desperate," he ends his sentimental words with a joke. It's a joke that earns him an elbow to the ribs.

"That's a good idea…" she whispers, sliding out of bed.

He follows her, "I do have them occasionally."

-x-

It felt as if they had just been reunited. Their time together had inevitably come to its end –at least until they figured out when they'll be able to see each other again. She stood with him outside of the security checkpoint, her arms around his waist and her chest pressed against his own. She peered up at him, smiling hesitantly as the nervous energy coursing through her body threatened to overwhelm her. It was true that they made amends; it was true that they were stronger than before and it was true that they loved each other, but she was still scared. She feared that the second he left her arms, left her line of sight, got on that plane, ventured off to his next destination and surrounded himself with his band members, fans and the endless stream of women that threw themselves at rock stars that he would revert to his old ways.

She trusted him.

But, she could definitely learn to trust him more.

The rush of people was a blur as they moved throughout the airport. Neither of them noticed the travelers maneuvering around them and neither tried to notice the occasional person attempting to sneak a picture of a moment that should have been private. He was standing so close to her, close enough for her to feel the tingling of his breath brush against her forehead. His hands rested against the small of her back as her fingers dug into the fabric of his shirt, "I wish you didn't have to go," it was her who broke their cocoon of silence. She only had a few minutes left before she had to let him go and she wanted to make sure –for the umpteenth time- that they were on the same page. They were officially dating, in love and committed to one another.

His head tilted down, as his hands started to slowly roam up and down her backside, "The feeling is pretty mutual."

The smirk on his face was obviously put there by the shiver gushing through her body. She tried to hide it. She failed. With his touch, she would always fail.

"Are you going to call me when you land?" She asked, gazing up into his eyes.

"…if you want me to."

She did. And she could only nod to let him know.

"…then I'll call you," he whispered.

She smiled and his lips met hers slowly. Blood was flowing through their bodies as he felt the weight of his carry-on press against the side of his leg. Her head was starting to feel light and a bit fuzzy but she refused to be the one to break off the kiss; she needed this. She didn't know when she would have the opportunity to kiss him like this again.

It was him, who pulled away, but she simply pressed her hands into his back to push him back in, lips back on his, moving fast, fierce and desperate. She knew if people weren't taking pictures before then they were definitely taking them now. And she couldn't bring herself to care.

Erin's hands drifted up his back, reaching the nape of his neck before dragging through his hair and gripping the soft, brunette strands. He needed a haircut. She gripped his newly acquired length and when he gasped, she took the opportunity to slip her tongue inside of his opened mouth, deepening the kiss despite the many bystanders hooting, capturing photos and grunting. Lips moving and tongues still in motion; he held her pressed against him with no interest of letting go. She was pretty petite, maybe no one would notice if he snuck her inside his carry-on and smuggled her onto his flight. That thought alone curved a smile onto his lips, a smile that she could feel through the kiss.

His hand cupped over her cheek and he unfortunately had to pull away at the sound of airport security clearing their throat. She pouted in disapproval, but Jay took it a step further, grabbing her hand and turning to face them, "Shut up."

"We just came to tell Ms. Voight that she's parked in the drop-off zone and she'll have to move her car before we write her a ticket."

Jay opens his mouth, preparing to retort back a comment along the lines of where they can shove the ticket they're threatening to write when Erin's hand clamps over his mouth, silencing him before the words formulated in his brain can actually reach his mouth.

"Thank you both for coming to tell me versus just stamping a $500 ticket under my windshield. I appreciate that more than you know. If you don't mind, I'll just be five minutes."

It's true. You catch more flies with honey than vinegar. The two security guards nodded before venturing back outside to direct traffic and ensure that no one else parks in the no-parking zone.

Once security was a suitable distance away, Erin took a hold of her boyfriend's hand and pouted, pressing her lips together in an effort to keep her emotions at bay, "I'm going to miss you."

"You're worried." He reads through her emotions, pinpointing the one that clearly overpowers the others.

"I'm not," she lies smoothly, but he sees through it nonetheless.

"I'm not going to cheat on you."

"I know," she tells herself, and maybe she needed to say it a few more times to believe it, but there was a part of her that knew that, "I know that Jay. You have commitment issues and I have a few trust issues I'm working out, but I know."

"I didn't sleep with her."

"I know."

"I couldn't."

"I know."

"I-"

She interrupts him, "Jay…"

"Yes?"

"I love you. Now go catch your flight and call me when you land."

Jay smirked, and once again leaned in to briefly run his lips against hers before grabbing the handle of his carry out and jogging off in the direction of the security line. She remained standing in the same place, arms crossed over her waist as she watched his pre-security check ticket allow him to bypass the long line of people. She took a deep breath, inhale and exhaled slowly before turning on her heel. They were going to be fine. Their relationship was going to come out stronger because of the distance and the many obstacles they'll overcome together. It's all going to work out. Maybe if she told herself that enough times, she would actually start to believe it.

The trek from the airport to the hospital was absolutely dreadful. It just reminded Erin of how appreciative she is for the fact that she doesn't normally have to drive herself around. City traffic was the worst. City traffic during the start of rush hour should be outlawed. And with Erin's sense of direction combined with the standstill traffic, the thirty minute drive took over an hour. To be more precise, it took an hour and ten minutes.

She's famished; she's flustered. She's out of breath as she rushes into the gift shop and purchases a get well card, a stuffed animal and a bouquet of peony flowers –since the florist said they signify get well and healing. For every day that Sorensen has been a patient at the hospital, she has visited, sometimes with Jay at her side. And every day she visited, she came with a card, a stuffed animal and a bouquet of peony flowers. It kind of became their thing –an expected thing that Sorensen honestly didn't mind no matter how much he complained about the girly, pink flowers, the stuffed animals that varied in species and the get well card that always read a corny joke that people were probably being overpaid to create.

Erin approached his room with her arms full of gifts to find Dawson and Atwater standing outside, pacing with their cells against their ear. When she stops in front of them, relief washes over their faces and they immediately pocket their phones. Atwater stepped towards her first, "I thought we had an agreement. We agreed to let you have your alone time with your boyfriend and take him to the airport if you checked in with us every hour."

"I kept up my end of the bargaining," she shuffled the flowers around in her arms.

"It's 20 minutes past the hour mark," Dawson chimed in.

"I was technically in the hospital," she shrugged, maneuvering through them, "I was downstairs in the gift shop and if you two haven't noticed my hands are a little occupied. Too occupied to search around the inside of my purse for my cell that's honestly probably ten minutes away from dying. Do you think Sorensen has his charger? Is he up?"

"Do you need help?" Her question is left unanswered as Dawson reaches out to take something from her hold. She shifts away and shakes her head. She's made it this far, she can make it a little farther, "I got it," she smiles sheepishly, "but if you want to be a gentleman, could you open the door for me?"

Dawson reaches over her shoulder and opens the door, pushing it as far out as he could from the awkward angle. She sends a smile over her shoulder as she ventures inside of the room. The peony flowers block her vision, the stuffed animal is tucked under her arm, her purse is over her shoulder and the card is in her free hand. She hears a kind, maternal voice suddenly speak up, "Oh dear, let me help you," soon enough the flowers are taken from her hold.

And she's met with the eyes of Roman, Sorensen and two other people she has not had the pleasure of meeting yet. She scurries over to his bedside and sets the stuffed animal down upon his lap. He grins, plucking the beak of the stuffed duck, "Another stuffed animal…"

"It's a duck this time," she chuckles, setting his card down on the bedside table, "I feel like he'll make a perfect addition to the bear, the monkey, the lion and the rabbit."

"I'm almost 40," he deadpans.

"You're never too old for a stuffed animal," she whispers, reaching over to cup the side of his face, "how are you feeling?"

"…you don't need to worry about me. I'm fine. I'm ready to get out of here and start physical therapy so I can get back to work."

Erin is prepared to play nurse; she's scanning him with her eyes, feeling around his forehead and expressing concern with the simple look of affection. She's close to requesting for his on call nurse to ask her questions that Sorensen would probably brush off. However, she never got the chance. A voice cleared its throat; it belongs to the older woman who took the flowers from her when she first walked in.

The first daughter quickly rubbed her hands against her pants leg before stepping forward. She held out her hand, burgundy manicured nails standing out in the off-white hospital room. She gave the woman –who oddly resembled her guard- a smile, "My mother taught me better manners than that. I apologize for my rudeness. I'm Erin."

"I know who you are dear," the woman outstretched her hand and shook the first daughter's palm, "I'm Susan. I'm Mike's mother. This," his mother waves over the other woman in the room who appears to be a few years older than Erin, "is my daughter, Cara."

Both women appear flustered, cheeks tinged red and words caught in their throat the second the introductions are over. Erin greets both, shaking Cara's hand the second she releases Susan's. It happens to be the first time she met a family member of Sorensen. She's yet to meet Roman's family members, but she has met Dawson's ex-wife, kids and sister and she has met Kevin's siblings. Now, she can add Sorensen to the list.

"I wish we had met under better circumstances."

Susan nods, sweeping her brunette –peppered with gray- hair over her shoulder, "You and me both, dear. I know the same goes for Cara. She's a big fan. She loves your activism."

"Thank you," Erin smiles, feeling another sweep of humbleness overwhelm her.

Yet, Cara says nothing. Her mouth opens, then closes, opens and then closes again.

"You'll have to excuse my daughter. She's usually more talkative than this," Susan speaks up, carrying the flowers over to the window, "she's just a bit star struck."

"Mom," Cara mutters, eyeing her mother embarrassingly.

"I completely understand," Erin laughs, patting Cara's shoulder, "I have a mother."

Cara smiles gratefully.

"It still surprises me that in all the years Sorensen has protected me, I've never met you."

Susan chuckles while organizing the flowers near the other ones Erin had brought in on previous days, "I told him to invite you to dinner at our house. I told him countless times. I bugged him since he first started watching you, way back when your dad was the vice president."

At this, Erin turns to her guard, arms crossed over her chest and brow raised on her forehead. Before she could get on him, his hands are in the air and he's smiling sheepishly, "Okay, I can explain," he swallowed dryly, "I don't like mixing business with pleasure. She's like my boss, mom, I keep telling you this. It's weird."

"You told me she's like family."

"Yeah," he nods, smiling reassuringly at the first daughter, "but mom, I know you. You'll pull out the baby albums, you'll tell embarrassing stories and you'll guilt trip her."

"Guilt trip her," both Susan and Cara say in unison.

Sorensen sighed, eyes focused on the duck versus his family members, "It is my duty to protect her," he points towards Erin to emphasize his statement, "it's in my job description. I got hurt protecting her," at this Erin's eyes averted towards the floor; the tiles suddenly holding her attention, "but I don't regret it and I don't want her to feel bad for it. I signed up for this. And I know that you'll guilt trip her –unintentionally- but you'll do it nonetheless by vaguely saying something along the lines of me being your only baby boy and how you'll be heartbroken if something were to happen to me. She didn't force me to take this position. I wanted to and I don't regret it and as soon as I'm all better, I'm reporting for duty bright and early."

Susan is quiet. Cara is stunned. Erin's attention is no longer on the tiled floor; they're on Sorensen. Erin moves to stand beside his bed and her hand covers his and she squeezes tight, every ounce of appreciation she could muster is seen through the look in her eye. He opens his mouth to speak, but is cut off by Atwater and Dawson entering the room.

Erin feels her phone buzz in her pocket and fortunately her arms aren't full and she can actually dig around her purse in search of it. It's a text. It's a message from Jay.

 _Guess who's the hot topic of celebrity news, -JH_

Her face drops, _oh please no, -EV_

 _Yes, -JH_

A screenshot is attached to the message and she sees the headline and the photo going along with it. Conversation lifts around her as her guards mingle, joke around and tease Sorensen about his endless stream of stuffed animals. They're distracted as she takes a seat near the window to read the headline of the article.

 _Why can't people respect our privacy, -EV_

It's a photo of Erin and Jay making out in the middle of the airport.

A link is sent this time. She clicks on it and beneath the stream of photos of Jay and Erin either kissing, holding hands and talking is a video, a video of them kissing, a video of her saying goodbye to her boyfriend, the same boyfriend she doesn't know when she'll see again in person.

 _What do you need me to do, -JH_

She smiled at that.

 _It's too late to get ahead of the story, -EV_

 _I can tweet at the publication of the article, -JH_

 _What would you say, -EV_

 _Fuck you, -JH_

 _I love the sentiment, but that wouldn't solve anything, -EV_

 _It's worth a try, -JH_

Before Erin could send off a reply, he sent in another message, _Babe, I got to go, the plane is about to take off and you know the whole airplane mode thing that is required for safe travel prohibits me from continuing this conversation. I'll message you when I land, -JH_

Erin reads it twice and smiles. She comes close to pocketing her cell when she clicks over to social media, strolling through the trends to see if her kiss with her boyfriend is trending. And fortunately and surprisingly, it isn't, however the name of her boyfriend is. She curiously clicks on his name and finds the source of the reason why.

On his page, tagged into one status are a long list of celebrity news sites that either published, shared, blogged or retweeted their private moment. And in all capitalized letters and five exclamation marks at the end, he wrote and posted, _FUCK YOU!_

Her parents, her dad's campaign manager and even her own boss might kill her for this, but she doesn't care in the moment. She retweets it.


	25. Long Distance

A few days had gone by since they last saw each other. Enough time had passed since they last spoke that Jay was no longer in Vegas and Erin had managed to immerse herself in work to settle three of her cases outside of court. Erin had locked herself away at work, using the time to occupy herself in order to keep her mind off of her boyfriend who is currently thousands of miles up in the air, traveling from Las Vegas to Atlanta. She had used the time to put her phone on silent, ignoring the calls from her father's campaign staff who had been desperately trying to get in contact with her to do damage control over her boyfriend's comment she retweeted days ago.

Only a few days had gone by yet it felt likes months.

They haven't spoken to each other –texting not included- since he came to see her days ago. It's going on two weeks, soon to be three; it's almost August. Long distance relationships are the worst. And the paparazzi didn't make it better. The constant questions, the picking and prodding into her personal life to see how she's handling her boyfriend touring the country, her thoughts on bras and panties being thrown towards him while he's performing on stage and her concerns on the possibility that the old Jay will come out the longer they're apart. The paparazzi were the worst.

Erin stretched out her legs, hoping the movement would take the strain out of her bended knees. She had been sitting on the floor for far too long; the time flying past her. Jay should have landed already but he never text her. He's probably too busy. Erin pushes the stack of files off her lap and onto the carpeted floor of her office before pulling her laptop onto her lap. She's focused; she's supposed to be calling Jay tonight and she wants to ensure that nothing gets in the way of that. Nothing and no one will prevent her from calling her boyfriend and finally hearing his voice. Erin opens an old file of a case she thought she had closed. For some reason, unbeknownst to her until she reads the report, the company her client is suing is now countersuing her client.

She read the first line. She didn't get far before there was a knock on the glass door of her office and someone walked in. That someone was limited to a few. Her secretary was pretty intimidating and did not allow anyone to just _knock_ nevertheless _walk in_ her office without a call to Erin's desk phone or an appointment. Only a few were so special. Only a few meaning her guards and her boss. It had to be one or the other.

Surprisingly it was neither. But, Erin understood why her secretary gave no warning call. The two uninvited and unwelcomed guests were her mother and her father's campaign manager, Trudy Platt. Her dad's campaign manager never visited unless it was work-related; she didn't believe in social calls. And the fact that her mother was with her meant that they had planned to tag team her. Over what? That remains to be the question that needed an answer.

"I will never understand," Camille started, running her perfectly manicured nail along the wood of Erin's desk, "how you have a perfectly good and usable desk that you never use," Camille flopped down into her desk chair and kicked up her feet, crossing her legs at the ankle, "and a pretty comfy chair too. Yet, you always sit on the floor both here and at your home."

Erin shrugs, "It helps me think," she sets her laptop down on the floor, "I think better sitting down here," at her mother's raised brow, she chuckles, "don't worry your pretty little head, when I conduct business with clients, I'm sitting behind the desk looking every bit the professional you raised me to be. Happy? Now," she intertwined her fingers, "I know this isn't a social visit, it's past the lunch hour so this isn't a lunch visit and you didn't come alone so I know this has nothing to do with a charity event. What did I do?"

Reading the new case file and report wasn't going to be happening in the near future so she might as well focus on the arrival of the uninvited guests. She wanted them to get straight to the point so she can get straight back to work. She had a boyfriend to call in a few hours.

Camille lowers her feet to the ground, "You know this is an important year for your father."

Ah. Now it made sense. This was a business-type, political-type visit. Erin screwed up and now Trudy is here to do damage control and her mother is here to ease communication between the two of them. How noble of her…

"I know that," Erin whispered, watching as her mother walked around the desk and approached her. With Erin sitting on the floor and Camille standing in front of her, standing tall in high heels, the difference in height would be intimidating for anyone who wasn't Erin. Camille was an intimidating woman; at least she appeared that way on the outside. Her posture was unapproachable, her mannerisms were uptight and stuck up, but the woman had a heart of gold.

"Sweetheart can you please stand up? I can't talk to you like this."

Erin smirked, "How about you sit down here with me?"

"Your father is up for reelection next year," Camille got back on subject, completely ignoring the suggestion that her daughter threw out, "we all have to be on our best behavior."

"What I do should not affect him."

"That's where you're wrong," Trudy joined into the conversation. She, by all accounts and opinions, was intimidating. She lived up to her outward appearance. Her hands were tucked into the front pockets of her slacks as she stood tall, poised and erect, head held high, refusing to angle her head and strain her neck to look down at Erin, "Everything you all do affects him. They will use anything you do against him. He's high in the polls overall, but he's low among churchgoers. He dropped in the polls among the highly religious the second you retweeted that post from your boyfriend."

Erin smiled at that. Not because her dad dropped in the polls, but at the reminder of her boyfriend's comment. He can be a cool, relaxed and chill guy unless you mess with her. Then a darker side, a protective and uncivil side comes out; it's a side that she's finding herself to enjoy.

"I'm not running for president, Trudy."

"This is a familial campaign, Erin. You know this. You know when someone runs for president, it's not just the actual person that's thrust into the limelight; it's the entire family. Please tell me you didn't forget or lose any brain cells dating that-"

"Watch it," Erin warns the second she cuts Trudy off.

"Erin, sweetheart," it's Camille who tries to play peacemaker; it's her only reason for tagging along in the first place, "Trudy has been doing damage control for the past couple of days since the post had been retweeted. And we absolutely understand how you feel about the situation, about not having the ability to do as you please, but just remember that the other side won't see it the way you do, the voters won't either," Erin rolls her eyes at that, "they connect everything we do to your father. And…and…"

"And what, mom?"

"You know I sort of support your relationship with Jay, but I'm starting to worry that he's bringing the old Erin out and not the one you worked so hard to be."

At that her mother grabbed Trudy's arm and dragged the protesting campaign manager out of her office. She left Erin to her thoughts. She stared off, out of the glass wall, watching her mother and Trudy walk in the direction of the elevators with a group of secret servicemen following closely behind. She left Erin to her thoughts on purpose. Camille knew her enough to know those parting words would stick with her, would make her think and reconsider a lot in her life.

And now she's stuck questioning, wondering if the old Erin is the real Erin and wondering if this new Erin is a phony, one built and constructed to live the life of a politician's daughter.

Was she living a lie? Who was she? Questions and worries that have honestly never plagued her were suddenly starting to make an appearance. Thanks, mom. If this was Camille's wish, she had succeeded. Erin would now be too busy trying to sort through her feelings, her thoughts and her actions to see which ones she liked and which she didn't, which belonged to old Erin and which ones belonged to the new, present her. Was Jay turning her into the old Erin? The Erin that she struggled for years to leave behind, the Erin that she wanted to forget, the Erin that turned to alcohol and drugs, and the Erin that lost Nadia.

She stared down at her hands; stretching them out and clenching them back in. She notices the nail polish on her fingernails cracking; she needs a manicure _soon_. She needs Nadia. She needs Severide. She needs Jay. She needs someone who would listen. She needs someone who would understand. She's not the old Erin, at least not completely her; she's left her far behind, but if her mother brought her up then that meant that she's acting like the old her. She hadn't changed. She hadn't matured. She's just as reckless, just as selfish, just as predisposed to alcohol and drugs. She can't possibly be the old Erin, maybe some part of the old Erin remained, but she can't be the old Erin completely…at least she hoped she wasn't. Maybe she was? She didn't know. Is she too young to go through an identity crisis?

She hears a light knock on the door, before it opened and closed behind another visitor. Was her mother and Trudy back to only pour salt into an opened wound?

"Hey," she looked up at the sound of Atwater's voice as he crouched low in front of her, "just so you know it's a combination of the two."

Her head tilted to the side, "Pardon?"

"You're a combination of the two Erins you're currently torn between," he brushed his hand through her head, tugging her forward to pull her into a hug, "Don't tell anyone I said this, especially your mom because she can get me fired, but screw them and everything they said about you and your boyfriend. I've spent more time watching the two of you together than anyone and he does bring a new side of you out, a side that's more carefree and exciting. You've been so busy doing what everyone else wants you to do, you've been trying to make everyone else happy and now it's your turn to do something for yourself. Sometimes it's okay to be selfish. Got it?" When she nodded, he released her from the hug, "I love you, alright."

He had been standing outside of the office the entire time, using the fact that he's her guard as an excuse to stand closer to the glass door than normal. He had heard everything. He knows that Camille wouldn't intentionally hurt her feelings; he also knew that Camille didn't know about every aspect of Erin's past. And while the first lady thought that she was making a good argument in the case of Erin watching what she posted on social media, she had only reminded her daughter of the old her, of the things and person she had lost, of the wounds that didn't heal completely and the secrets she had purposely kept from her parents. They didn't know of the resentment she sometimes felt towards them, they didn't know how close she had come to burying herself in a hole and never coming out.

"I love you too."

Her voice was barely above a whisper, but Atwater heard it. And he smiled.

"Do you want me to call Severide?"

Erin wiped her dry cheeks and nodded, "Yeah."

Atwater reached over and swiped her cell from on top of the couch and went to her speed dial, selecting the number of her closest friend before placing him on speaker. He answered after the second ring; he always answered. She could always depend on him to answer no matter what.

"Hey Er, everything alright?"

It was Atwater who spoke; it was Atwater who filled him in. It was Atwater who drew the connection between what her mother had said and the thoughts that suddenly rose in her head because of it. Atwater was almost as close of a friend to her as Severide. Once he finished, he slid the phone towards her and departed her office, shutting the door firmly behind him to give her a sense of privacy. Even though he left, she said nothing.

"Want me to fly over there?"

She softly chuckled, "You can't fly out here every time I'm upset."

"Want to bet?"

He was just as protective as Jay, but in another sense of the word. As a friend, maybe a best friend if she thought long and hard about it; he flirted, hooked up and played around a lot when it came to members of the opposite sex, but never with her. She was like a sister to him. She was a best friend to him. He played around more times than she can probably count, but not when it came to Erin Lindsay Voight. She was off limits. And anyone who dared hurt or harm her would see just how much he cared for her.

"She didn't intend to upset me," Erin started to explain; "She didn't even know she upset me. I just couldn't help it though. Once she said that, I started thinking and my thoughts led me everywhere. I had no control over them. And…and…"

"It made you reconsider what you thought you knew?"

Severide gets her.

"Yes," her answer comes out in a ghost of a whisper.

"Maybe I can fly down there some time in August," his thought holds hesitation; he knows her well enough to know that if she thought he was only wanting to fly down to check up on her, she would reject him. That was only part of it though.

"I think that'll be a good idea. I miss you."

He grins, releasing a built up sigh of relief, "I miss you too."

Erin pulled her laptop back onto her lap after finally relaxing, after finally getting over her mother's parting words. Now, she could probably get some work done, even with Severide still on the phone, working on the other end in another city, state and time zone. She could hear his fingers typing against a keyboard as the office chatter is muffled in the background by his own question, "How's the long distance relationship treating you?"

She sniffs, "It absolutely sucks. I haven't spoken to him since he left. Can you believe that? We've both been so busy that our schedules do not sync up." She's no longer focused on her job. How can she be when Kelly brings up the one topic that immediately pulls in her undivided attention? Her laptop is sat back down on the floor.

"Where is he now?"

"Atlanta."

"How long have you gone without talking to him?"

"It'll be two weeks in three days."

"Damn…"

"Right," she rolls her eyes, "tell me about it."

A silence falls over the phone line. This conversation makes her miss her boyfriend even more. She wanted to speak to him, to hear his voice, to see him smile yet she was stuck miles away from him, forced to have that semblance of comfort and conversation through texting. And the worse part about texting is the fact that he has the tendency of responding hours after she sends off a text. She wants him here. Or she wants to be there. She wants them to be together.

"Erin…"

She forgets she's on the phone. She forgets she's at work. She somehow found herself lying on her back, staring up at the ceiling with her phone on speaker resting on the center of her stomach.

"Erin…" he repeats.

And she lifts her phone, feeling the vibration of an incoming call move against her stomach. It's Annie. She doesn't answer. She lets it ring until it goes to voicemail.

"Erin!"

She snaps out of whatever haze she was in, "Yes? Sorry, I kind of zoned out there."

"I hate to do this, but I have a city budget meeting."

"I understand," she pushes herself up into a seated position.

"I hate ditching you in your time of need."

She releases an emotional chuckle at that, "I am not in a time of need. I'm just hormonal right now and missing my boyfriend. And sex. I'm definitely missing sex with my boyfriend."

"Well then…" he's smiling; she can practically hear the smile on his face, "I can't really help you with that, especially all the way here in Chicago," she laughs at that, "but I can help be the distraction that you need. Maybe after my meeting? I'll rush through it for you."

"There's no need to do that," she reassures, dragging her laptop back onto her lap, "I need to get some work done. And if all goes as planned, I have a skype date tonight with my boyfriend."

"So you'll finally have a chance to see his face?"

"If nothing comes up," she sighs, shoving a strand of hair behind her ear, "we've been trying to have skype dates for the last couple of days. Keep your fingers crossed."

"You'll talk to him. I have faith," he whispers the last remark when voices begin to fill the room; his meeting was close to starting, "I do have to go, Er. Are you going to be alright?"

"Of course. I'll always be alright."

-x-

The paparazzi and the fans were hot on his heels. Jay swerved right and slipped into the building behind an elderly couple who had just finished walking their dog. At some point, he had gotten separated from his bandmates. A night out at the bar turned into them being chased down by flash photography, cellphones recording videos and fans trying to touch him, hug him and even attempt to place a kiss on his cheek. They had all been separated from each other.

He could only hope that Rixton, Mouse and Ruzek had gotten away unscathed.

Just as he entered the elevator, he saw fans piling into the building, scanning the lobby in search of him. When their eyes locked onto his, he reached out for the close button and pressed against it excessively. He heard his cell ring; it could possibly be Erin but he honestly didn't have the opportunity to answer. The fans locked in on him, shouted out his direction and all raced towards him. Fortunately, the elevator doors slammed shut and he took it to the top floor.

Jay suddenly released a breath of air he hadn't realized he'd been holding. A little over an hour ago, they had arrived in Atlanta, Georgia. They had a straight flight from Las Vegas to Atlanta and never truly got an opportunity for downtime since the moment they landed. After checking into their hotel rooms, they had an interview and then to celebrate a great performance in Las Vegas, they had gone out to the bar.

That was a mistake.

That was a mistake that led him here. At the time he entered the building, he couldn't exactly take in his location. Now as the elevator doors opened, he could. He's at an apartment building in the heart of Atlanta, Georgia. He's walking distance from his hotel but there is no way he can possibly get from his current location to his desired location without notifying the herd of paparazzi and fans.

His phone rings again. This time, he checks and answers it; it's Ruzek.

"Where are you?" He's out of breath.

"I took cover in an apartment building that's about two blocks from the hotel. Where are you?"

"I made it to the hotel," he answers; Burgess is in the background on the phone with Mouse, "have you spoken to Rixton? Mouse took cover in an antique shop a block over."

"You're the first person I spoke with since the psychos were unleashed."

"Alright, stay put. We're going to try and get into contact with Rixton and then Will and we'll see how we can tame the savages."

Jay glanced down at his cell; it's an hour past the time of his scheduled skype date with Erin. Shit. He's a horrible boyfriend. Jay sighs and nods, completely forgetting that Ruzek is unable to see him. He runs his hand through his hair before speaking, "And what am I supposed to do while I stay put?"

"I don't know. I'm sure you'll find something to do. Oh, Rixton's calling. I'll call you back."

Before Jay could utter another word, Ruzek hangs up. And he's immersed in silence. The hall is eerily quiet, except for the sound of his shoes walking along the carpeted floor. He's looking down at the phone in his hand, staring at the wallpaper of his cell, a photo of Erin that he recently took during his last visit. She's smiling at the camera; her face is flushed and her cheeks are tinted red. The sun was setting in the background of the photo, causing an ethereal halo to surround her. His angel. That's what she was. And he missed her.

Jay leaned his back against the wall; an apartment door to his left and another to his right limited the space he had but he made it work. He slid down until he's seated; legs stretched out and phone resting in his hand. His eyes have never left her picture. He's supposed to be in his hotel room right now, looking at her through the screen of his laptop. Right now, he's supposed to be talking to her, flirting with her, seducing her with lilt in his voice and smolder of his eyes. This is the longest he's been without sex and it's only been two weeks, going on three. This skype date was supposed to bide him over until she's in his arms again. This was a long time coming; he was supposed to see her, envision her in his arms, he had every intention of initiating phone sex or video call sex, whatever the term for it is with her. But, that's ruined. Who knows how long he'll have to stay put and wait it out?

There's a lack of physical intimacy in their relationship. And it's driving him crazy.

There's a lack of interaction. And it's driving him out of his mind.

How is this relationship going to last when it's looking like they're going to be spending more time a part from each other than together?

His thumb hovers over the call button and before he convinces himself to do it, she beat him to it. He has an incoming video call and he eagerly accepts it. He's impatiently waiting as their phones search for a connection to clear up the freezing image.

"Can…" she's cut off; she's talking but he's unable to hear it. Her face is frozen in the frame. He hears her voice in patches, it's spotty; he can hardly make out what she's saying.

This stupid apartment building has poor public Wi-Fi. He waits anyway. He'd rather talk to her with a slow connection than not talk to her at all. There's a weak signal; he glances down at the bars on his phone and his lack of connection to Wi-Fi which explains the fading of her voice, the static pauses in her words and the frozen image of her face.

"Jay…"

He cuts her off, "Erin, I can hardly hear you. You're breaking up."

"Can…you…"

It's cutting in and out. He's close to throwing his phone down the hallway. It's pissing him off.

"Erin, can you hear me?" She says nothing; her lack of response answers the question.

"Jay…" she's still cutting in and out.

In an effort to fix the problem, he jumps to his feet, holding his cell above his ear as he makes his way further down the hallway.

"Can you…" he's slowly finding stronger service and a stronger Wi-Fi connection, "Can you hear…" it's getting there; he keeps walking until he approaches the other end of the hallway, "Can you hear me?"

"Now I can," he smiles, taking a seat against the wall, between the two doors of another apartment, "ahh," the look on his face is indescribable, "there's my girl." The picture cleared up.

"I was beginning to think you forgot about me."

"Never," he whispers, shaking his head to emphasize his point, "I kind of got in a predicament which kind of hampered my plans for our skype date."

"What happened?"

And in the matter of five minutes –which is impressive considering how much has happened in the last few hours- he explains everything. He tells her of his busy day, his full schedule and his escape from the paparazzi and the fans. By the end, she's laughing. And it kind of takes away the frustration and the annoyance he felt about the entire situation.

"You really think that's funny, huh?" He's grinning madly; the smile on his face stretches from ear to ear.

"I'm sorry," she attempts to straighten her face –it doesn't work, "yes babe, that's hilarious. I'm just picturing you running through the streets of Atlanta with screaming teenagers and adults chasing you from behind. I keep picturing the look that was probably on your face."

"I must say," he whispers, his fingers running across the outline of her jawline, "I miss that smile of yours. It's almost been two weeks since I last saw you."

She sobers up at that.

As they both had feared, being in a long distance relationship sucks. And it's only been two weeks. What will happen tomorrow? How will they feel in two days, a week, maybe a month?

During their time apart they had sent texts, called each other and even sent emails on the off chance that one of them didn't respond fast enough to a text message. This cannot be the route their relationship goes; this can't be the turning point for them. They already have so many challenges stacked against them; they cannot have the stressors of a long distance relationship working against them too.

"I miss you too," her breathy words make him smile. It's weak and uncertain but it's a smile nonetheless. And her equally uncertain smile pulls at his heart.

"Fuck. This sucks," he says through gritted teeth; his cell resting in the large palm of his left hand as he holds it up at an angle to collect his entire face in the screen, "This long distance thing is bullshit." He sees the door of an apartment unit open up across from him, a couple steps out, holding the hand of their child, "It's been two weeks, babe, and the time isn't making the distance any easier. It's fucking killing me."

He earns a collective glare from the parents as the mother covers the ears of her kid while she leads the little boy towards the elevator. He doesn't feel sorry for it. Instead, he rolls his eyes and turns his attention back towards his girlfriend, "I honestly didn't think it would bother me as much as it is right now. I miss you. I miss your laugh. I miss your smell. I miss your humor. And I miss the sex, I miss the fucking sex Erin," the father of the boy strengthens his glare, but once again, Jay ignores it and rolls his eyes, "I hate to admit this but I think this is the longest I've been celibate. I have all of this built up frustration, anger and irritation and I'm taking it out on everybody. And now I'm stuck in some dilapidated apartment building hiding out from some psychotic fans that won't take a hint and leave me the fuck alone!"

"Seriously, dude, come on watch your mouth!" This time the father of the young boy shouts from down the hallway; the elevator seems to be taking longer than usual.

"Leave me the fuck alone."

Jay sees Erin's eyes bulge out at the tone of his voice and the malice in his word choice. He was no longer his charming self –at least to strangers and outsiders. He was angry. He had so much tension pent up inside of him that needed a release, but his girlfriend was currently miles and miles away. He needed her. He needed someone. He needed a release.

"What do you need?" Erin remains calm; it seems as though she's moved closer to the camera.

His hand runs down his face and he emits a sigh, "I need sex. I need you."

"What can I do?"

He doesn't answer right away. He's honestly thinking to himself. Fortunately the family is gone, but unfortunately, he's still stuck in the hallway of this building. He hasn't heard anything from Ruzek, Rixton, Mouse or even his own brother. He was stranded for the time being and sexually frustrated. He needed to see her, to touch her, to kiss her, to bury his face in the crook of her neck and bury himself in between her legs. He wanted to feel her nails scratch along his back, he wanted to feel her teeth bite against his ear and he wanted to hear her voice call out his name.

And that's when he remembers. Kim had an idea. It wasn't a good one though, but it's worth a shot. It wouldn't hurt to mention it, to plant the seed in her head.

"Burgess had an idea. I got excited about it until I realized it probably wouldn't work."

"What was it?"

"She figured we could rotate visits. One Friday afternoon, one of us flies to the other after work and then on Sundays we say goodbye and fly back," he shrugs his shoulders and he knows that she could see the disappointment in his face at the thought of him getting excited about the prospect only to realize that it wouldn't pan out.

"Yeah that wouldn't work."

They both knew it. He shouldn't have allowed his hopes to get so high. High hopes only led to disappointment.

Money wasn't the problem. It was their schedules; it was their careers. What's the point in having all the money that one may desire only to not enjoy using it the way you want? He wants to travel the world with her alongside him. He wants to fly her out here to Georgia. He wants her to be sitting beside him on this dirty carpet. He wants so much from her. He wants to spoil her. He wants to buy her the moon and the stars. Maybe an island? Maybe he can look into that. He wants to get her everything that's her heart's content. She'll never have to want for nothing. The life of a rockstar's girlfriend was one that many women wouldn't mind living. She could quit her job and join him on the tour.

She wouldn't want that though. That would be selfish of him to request that.

The longer they're together –in a relationship- the harder it is to be apart. It's approaching the end of July; they haven't been together for too long, but they've been together long enough for him to get attached. The thought of almost losing her put things into perspective for him.

He ran his hand over his face once more, whispering the next question that plagued his mind, "When will I see you again?"

The pause on her end makes him nervous as he awaits an answer. And when he gets one, he kind of wishes he hadn't asked.

"I don't know."

And this is why he didn't do relationships. He didn't want to get attached. And now that he is, he has to live with it. He has to live with the skype dates; he has to be content with the lack of intimacy in their relationship –only resorting to phone sex when they're both desperate. It's not enough though. It bided him over for the first week but he needs more, he needs the feel of a woman's body pressed against his own, he needed the kisses, the smell and the sound of pleasure that only he could give them. _Her._ He needed the sound of pleasure that only he could give her.

"Jay…"

He looks back at the camera when she calls his name. He's speechless at what he finds. She's naked; her phone must be propped up against her dresser. Her hair is pooled around her shoulders and her hands are resting delicately upon her hips.

He groans, "Erin," the things this woman does to him; he adjust the front of his pants as they grow tighter at the sight of her, at the sound of her as her hands delicately roam her body, "I'm in public and I don't have any earphones."

And when she shrugs her shoulders and continues to wander her body with her hands, -moaning louder he notices- he thinks if it's possible to fall more in love with this woman then he already has. Jay grins, feeling the weight of his sexually pent up energy alleviate some at the feel of his free hand unbuttoning his jeans and dipping underneath the waistband of his boxers.


	26. By My Side

It's August. It's fucking August and she has yet to see her boyfriend in person since early July. She missed him, truly, wholeheartedly and with every ounce of fiber in her body, she missed him. And they still haven't planned a day to see each other in person. Long distance relationships fucking suck. Unless she's asleep, dreaming about her boyfriend, allowing the reverie to ease the ache in her heart that Jay's absence has caused. She missed him. And she felt some sort of relief, seeing him, hearing his voice and feeling his unreal touch in her dream state –until it's ruined.

Someone called her. Her phone is vibrating _on her bed_ causing her dream to unfortunately end. And knowing how her luck is, there is absolutely no way she can go back to sleep now and pick up where her dream left off. _Date night_. _Romance_. _White lilies. Holding hands. Serenades. No paparazzi. No fans. No work. No stress._ It was the perfect dream – a utopia of some sort- and someone ruined it.

The vibration of her phone is a persistent quiver, shaking against her sheets and sending small tremors throughout the expanse of her bed. Someone ruined her fucking dream. And she wasn't happy. The vibration ends. The call went to voicemail. And there's no way she can go back to sleep and pick up where she left off. Her phone rings again. And she's absolutely thankful she didn't attempt to go back to sleep. She would have absolutely murdered someone if she managed to pick up where her dream left off only for her vibrating phone to interrupt again. She had no idea what time it is, and a part of her doesn't even know what day it is. With work obligations, first daughter duties, charity responsibilities and philanthropy commitments, all the days seemed to blend together and the one day she has off, she's woken up at an ungodly hour.

At least that's what she expects from the sunrise shining outside her window.

Her phone continuously vibrates. She needs to answer it. She doesn't know where it's at. It's on her bed somewhere. It'll be like searching for a needle in a haystack. Her large bed probably swallowed it up. It didn't. She wished it did. Then her dream wouldn't have been interrupted.

Erin feels the strong vibration of her cell phone. With one eye open and the other one closed, she extended her hand out, patting against the mattress in search of her vibrating device. She rubs her hand along the sheets, following the motions of the vibration until it grew stronger. She was getting close. And she finds it without even having to open both eyes and lift her head. She swipes her finger across the screen without even looking at the name. _Please don't be Annie._ Bringing the phone to her ear, voice thick with sleep, she answers, "Hello."

"Hey Er," It's Severide; he should know better, "I'll be heading to the airport in a few hours, probably around two. I board my flight at five in the afternoon, but I have a layover in Philadelphia. You'll probably be asleep by the time I actually land in D.C., but I still have my spare key and I'm sure Capp will let me in if I forget it again. I'll call you when I get to Philly, alright?" Kelly stated and Erin nodded, forgetting that he couldn't possibly see her.

"Alright…fine. And just so you know, you could have just told me all of that in a text message."

"And miss the chance to hear your sleepy voice? No way," he teased.

Erin hung up. And she knew their relationship was solid enough to know that he wouldn't take offense. He knows better. He should know better. She cracked one eye open; it's a little after five in the morning. He definitely knows better. What the hell is he even doing up so early in the morning? Gosh. And now she won't be able to go back to sleep.

Her phone vibrates again. He's calling her back. And for some reason she answers. Nine times out of ten she'll probably always answer. It's Severide and unless she's extremely busy or having an emotional breakdown, she'll answer. He isn't her number one speed dial for nothing.

"What?" She growls into her device after bringing the phone back up to her ear.

"It sounds like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning," The bastard is smiling; she can practically see and hear it in his voice, "Good morning to you too."

"Good morning," she muttered, snuggling deeper into the warmth of her bed, and pulling a pillow tightly against her chest, "now what do you want?"

"…a distraction."

"From what…" her voice dragged on.

"A jackass," this pulls open both of her eyes; she opens her mouth to ask clarifying questions, "a self-entitled, narcissistic jackass to be more specific."

Erin sits up in bed. Her back rests against the headboard; her hair sits wild above her head. She attempts to run her fingers through it, but her fingers get caught in a few tangles. She didn't expect this reaction; she didn't expect such an intense statement from such a mild-mannered guy.

"I don't think I'm following along," she rolls out of bed; her phone is positioned and balanced between her ear and her shoulder.

He sighs, and she assumes he's pinching the bridge of his nose, "My chief of staff is supposed to be making my job easier. I didn't even hire her. She was the chief of staff to the last mayor."

"Are you aware that as mayor you appoint your chief of staff?"

"Not helping, Er…" he whispers.

She sighs heavily as she flops down on her couch; she lifts her feet up and places them on her coffee table. Her phone is now on speaker, sitting atop her bosom with her hands intertwined on top of her flat stomach. Her fingers brush beneath her tank top, drawing nonsensical patterns on her skin as she feels the vibrations of Kelly's frustrated voice through her voice.

"I just hate this. We're both on the same side here but it feels like she's trying to steal my job."

"That's impossible," Erin retorts, rolling her eyes at the thought of the woman causing him stress, "You were voted in. She was appointed by you. She should consider herself lucky that she even has a job. What's her number?"

"Erin…"

"Kelly…"

He rolls his eyes and continues, "And then the bitch-"

"Kelly!" She scolds.

"Sorry, and then the useless dirt bag had the nerve to leak information about my past, you know, about my college bachelor days and she doesn't even know that I know she leaked it but I found out from my secretary. And now residents of the city, actual voters, are questioning my ability to perform my job because for some reason they assume fulfilling the task of being the mayor and keeping my junk in my pants has a strong correlation. This is utter bullshit. I released a statement yesterday and then she, my fucking chief of staff, released a statement in the same day talking about how surprised they were with the information that came out and how it sheds a negative light upon the office of the mayor. And I just know that when reelection comes up, she's going to run against me. I know it. I fucking know it."

"Just for the record, I didn't scold you for calling her a bitch; I want that number!"

"No, you'll call her and she'll use whatever you say against you."

"Who's the lawyer here?"

He chuckles on the line, "I appreciate your protectiveness but I don't need it. I just need a break. I need to get away. I need to breathe. I need to see you."

"And you're going to see me," she asserted; she swallows hard and attempts to put a smile on her face as she rises to her feet, "I'm glad you're getting away because you deserve a break. You've been working your ass off. You've been dedicating yourself to that city since college and if Janet…Jane…Julia…Jenny-"

"Jessica," he corrected, his lips curling up into a smile, "Some call her Chili."

"Whatever the hell her name is, if she can't see that, then fire her ass."

"I can't," he sighs defeated and she can practically picture him stressfully running his hand through his hair, ruffling it up and making it look wild.

"Why not?"

There was a long pause. And she waited, and waited, and waited until he finally realized that she wasn't giving up. She could hear another sigh of defeat, one that hinted towards him giving in and finally telling her what she wanted to know.

"She sent me a text the other night," he cleared his throat before he admitted the rest, "I think she probably knew I was leaning towards canning her ass so she sent me a message."

Erin walks towards her bedroom door, "Read it to me." Her hand hovers over the knob.

Severide doesn't argue. She hears shuffling on the other side as he removes the phone from his ear, places her on speaker phone as he goes to his messages to find the very one that came from his chief of staff. When he opens it up and takes a deep breath, she waits impatiently for him to read it, "Okay, so she said and I quote 'I know what you're thinking and I'd advise you against that. I have one of the best attorneys and I will not hesitate to slap a discrimination suit and sue your ass for wrongful termination. Don't underestimate me, Mr. Severide. I know people in high places and the last thing you want to do is get on my bad side.'"

Erin remained silent for two reasons: 1) she thought the message was unfinished and 2) she was heated. She finally twisted the knob to her bedroom door, but she didn't walk in, instead she turned around and walked away, breaking the silence in her quest towards the kitchen, "What did you say in response?"

"I didn't respond."

"Good," she whispers, struggling to calm herself down, "that's good. Don't respond."

"Erin, it's so early in my political career and I'm already about to have a scandal. She's going to insinuate that I fired her for being a woman. I would never do that. There's no way I'll win re-election. It's only been a couple of months and I'm already screwing up."

"That's enough of that, Kelly," she retorted, pressing the button to her coffee machine a little harder than necessary, "You've done nothing wrong. Now, tell me, as objectively and honestly as you can, if you fire her is she going to make good on her threat or is she bluffing?"

Kelly shrugs, "I don't think she's bluffing."

"Okay," Erin licks her lips and nods, setting the phone down and placing him on speaker, "I need you to take the right precautions in terminating her."

"I'm not firing her."

"Why not?"

"Didn't you hear the message I just read to you, Erin?"

"I heard."

"She says she has one of the best attorneys and will sue me for discrimination."

"Well as an _actual_ attorney who has the degree, the experience and the necessary skills to squash this little problem, believe me when I tell you that you have nothing to worry about."

"She says she knows people in high places."

And this pulls a dry laugh from the pit of her stomach. She actually has to sit her cup of coffee down out of fear that she may actually spill the hot beverage on herself.

"Sev, when it comes to knowing people in high places, I think you have her beat."

Her morning started off interesting. She spoke to Kelly for another hour until he had to get off the phone. She provided him with free legal advice, asserting that she'll take his case pro bono if Jessica is brave enough to sue. He wanted her to recommend a lawyer, he knows she's busy and she's out of state, but she refused. _Anything for a friend._ A best friend if she really thought about it. So he at least wanted to pay her for her effort, for her legal advice, but once again, she turned it all down. _Anything for one of her favorite guys._ He needed to run by the office once more before heading off to the airport. She probably wouldn't see him until tomorrow because he wouldn't be getting in until later tonight. She needed to do something to pass the time. Jay had rehearsal today so that was out of the question. Her parents and brother were in Florida until the end of the week. And she still didn't want to speak to Annie; it was nothing against her friend, it's just sometimes the woman can be draining and she has the tendency to make her problems Erin's problems.

Her day felt long.

Her day was boring.

Her day wasn't productive.

She washed and rewashed the dishes. She baked cookies that were pretty decent. She sat out on the balcony and actually bird watched. She sat on the couch and mindlessly flipped through channels. But, no matter what she did, her mind stayed on Jay. He was all she could think of; he was all she could focus on.

And that evening she spent her time relaxing in front of the fire. Her feet curled beneath her, a blanket draped over her lap and a bowl of hot chili –prepared and dropped off by her mother a day ago- cupped in her hands.

-x-

When she woke up the next morning, she saw a text from him –a photo text. It was a picture of him in his hotel room, eyes dried, tired and red and his hair was wild and messy atop his head. She wanted to run her fingers through it, to lay it back in place. There was a typed message attached, _I miss you. Can you tell, -JH_

 _Between the hair and the eyes, it's so obvious, -EV_

He didn't respond right away. He must have been busy and she accepted that. If he was working, she was probably free and if she was working, he was probably free. Their schedules never synced up. This all sucks. Long distance relationships are the worse.

Erin found herself lying in the bed for most of the day. She could hear movement outside of her bedroom; it was probably Severide. She hoped it was Severide. She crossed her fingers and prayed that it was Severide.

And at some point today, Annie called. She called again. She's been calling more frequently in the last couple of days. Erin still hasn't answered. It's just sometimes she needs the energy to talk to her friend, to hear her complaints, to hear her constantly ask for a favor and it gets old.

Erin is suffering through a dry spell. This lack of physical intimacy and interaction is getting to her too. She's gone through a longer dry spell in the past but now that she's experienced some great sex, she craves it now too. Phone sex and video chat sex got old really fast. It wasn't cutting it anymore. It only made them both want the real thing.

And if she reflected on her emotions more, she would probably realize that deeply rooted in her chest is fear. She's scared. Or nervous. Either would work. She cannot help but think about his past and when she thinks about it she realizes that this is probably the longest he's been without sex since becoming famous. She doesn't want his needs satisfied elsewhere. She doesn't want him to look for female attention in all the wrong places for all the wrong reasons.

She has to clear her mind. And she didn't shower or wash her hair yesterday so she does it today. She cleans herself and freshens up only so she can put on a pair of yoga pants and a tank top to lounge in bed. This is how she spends her two days this week.

This idea of a long distance relationship isn't all it's cracked up to be. Sometimes they'll message each other in the middle of the night, or extremely early in the morning. Sometimes they'll talk until the sun rises or the sun sets. Sometimes they don't even get to speak or message at all; their schedules far too packed and busy to even take a second out of their day to type and send a greeting. Sometimes they have to stay current on each other's lives through social media or dare they think it _celebrity news_.

Each and every day was different. Each and every day presented a new problem; a lack of intimacy, poor video connection, busy schedules, technology failure, a fear of infidelity and uncertainty about the future.

And for the last few weeks, it seemed to be a combination of them all.

Long distance relationships suck. And so does her pity party. Until her cell vibrates, causing her to reach out and drag it over. He responded to her text, hours later, _Well that's what happens when your girl is hundreds of miles away, -JH_

She's prepared to type a retort or a flirtatious comment when another message comes in, _you're offline. Get online please. I need to see you, -JH_

Erin doesn't respond to that. Instead, she follows directions and opens her laptop to sign on. He doesn't waste a second in calling her –probably out of worry that once he starts talking to her something will interfere and end their conversation prematurely. And in return, she doesn't waste a second in answering. Pleasantries aside and greetings nowhere near, they skip all of that because neither knows how long they'll have to talk face to face.

"How's work going?" Jay asked, adjusting the pillow behind his back as he sat up against the headboard. His laptop sat on his lap, screen opened up and angled to show as much of him in the frame as possible.

Erin shrugged, groaning in frustration when she noticed the camera delayed for a few seconds on her laptop. The image of her face froze on camera. It was an awkward look; her mouth was open, her shoulders were high and she was in the process of combing through her hair with her fingers. When the camera caught up and unfroze, she smiled and answered his question, "Work is work. I had a few late nights, but my guys have been looking out for me, making sure I'm getting at least eight hours of sleep and eating regularly."

"Eating regularly," he repeated, "Since when did someone have to make sure you ate enough?"

"Since I was given two new interns and two new hires to supervise," she answered, masking the look of annoyance on her face, "you know, I figured they would make my life easier, but it seems to be the opposite. I swear they don't know how to do anything. Every task I give them, they have like ten follow-up questions a piece. Ms. Voight, how do I use the copier, how do I scan this document, how do I fax this information, how should I structure this affidavit, how do I go about filing a complaint on behalf of your client? Jay, I get it, they're hired to learn, but my god, are the law schools they're attending teaching them anything?"

At the sound of her rant, her bedroom door creaks open. And to her utter delight, Severide pokes his head in. He's here. He arrived safe and sound at some point late last night.

"Hey, how was your flight?" Erin asked off camera; her gaze cast towards the right to talk to someone out of view. Jay heard footsteps of some unknown person walk closer.

"I slept for most of it so it was alright. I made food. I know you want some."

The camera delayed. Jay didn't recognize the voice, but by the look on her face he could tell that whoever it was, she loved him very much. He saw her head turn right again and a smile spread across her face, "I am starving actually. I'll be out there in a few seconds."

Halstead didn't start speaking until he heard footsteps walk away being followed by the sound of a closing door. He sighs; he knows he'll have to hang up soon, "I guess you want to call me back while you go eat?"

"Not a chance," she stated matter of fact, balancing her laptop in her arms as she climbed out of bed, "It's not too often we have a chance to talk. I'm not planning to hang up anytime soon. If this call ends, it's because you have to go. I'm just going to bring you with me. A girl's gotta eat and I know you don't want me withering away while you're gone."

Erin carefully sat her laptop down on the kitchen island, adjusting and propping the screen to fit her face and upper body in the camera. A plate was already made for her. It was beside the stove with a paper towel covering it. Enthusiastically and now pumped with energy, she grabs her place and brings it closer.

"Two weeks from now I have a concert in Miami, I want you to come."

The invitation surprisingly catches her off guard. The piece of bacon she's holding is inches from her opened mouth. She should have been expecting one at some point since they're going on a month of not seeing each other, but she didn't expect it now –while she's in her pajamas, hair a mess, a strip of bacon in her hand and Severide sitting across from her, out of frame, eating his food. She sits her piece of bacon back down and wipes her fingers against the paper towel.

"I" Erin cleared her throat, "I don't know. I'll have to check my schedule."

"Of course," Jay smiled weakly.

She wants to go. She desperately wants to go, but being told two weeks in advance is not a lot of time. She has to put in the days at her job and make sure she can actually take off. She has to notify her guards so they can put it through security and get whatever approval and authorization that's needed. She wants to go so bad. And by the disappointed look on his face, he really wants her to come. Erin grabs the strip of bacon again and this time she manages to take a bite, "I can have an answer for you by the end of this week. I'll do everything in my power to be there."

Jay cracked a smile at her statement. And he silently watched as she chowed down and finished up her breakfast. He couldn't exactly see Severide, he only saw the arm of a man reach for her empty plate and he would occasionally see her glance out of frame, smiling and nodding her head to whatever mumbled question her friend would ask.

"What are your plans for today?"

"First I owe a self-righteous bitch a phone call," her boyfriend raised an eyebrow at her response, "afterwards I'm going to get some work done and then I owe Annie a phone call and an explanation to my avoidance of her phone calls," she's silent for a few seconds as she considers her latest statement, "Actually I may put that last one off for a few days. I'm going to be too wired up on emotions from the first phone call to attempt the second one."

"I feel like I'm missing something," Jay scratched the back of his head.

"Oh I didn't introduce you to Kelly."

Severide is prepared to walk into the frame until Jay brushes it off, shrugging his shoulders and waving his hand through the air as if it didn't matter, "That's all right."

"I want you guys to meet," she reaches for the hand of her best friend and practically yanks him into the camera frame, "two of my favorite guys all technically in one room."

"Hey, I'm Kelly Severide," he steps into the screen and gives the guy on the other end a macho nod of the head.

"Jay."

It was awkward. Every part of the introduction and greeting was awkward. Both men were shirtless. Severide is standing in Erin's kitchen, wearing sweatpants with no shirt; his chest is exposed, his muscular abdomen, pecs strong and visible and shoulder blades intense as he stands proudly beside his girlfriend, _Jay's_ girlfriend. Meanwhile, Jay is miles away, sitting in his hotel room, on his bed, shirtless and sporting just as much muscle, masculinity and intimidation that one man could offer. Guy against guy. Friend against boyfriend. Alpha male against alpha male. And it was all overlooked by Erin as she innocently looked back and forth between her best friend and her boyfriend, smiling widely in an effort to bridge her two worlds together.

Jay's expression was hard. It lightened up at the smile on her face.

The moment only came to an end when Erin's cell phone rang, interrupting the stare down between both men. She excused herself from the kitchen to go retrieve her cell phone, only coming back when the call went to voicemail. It was Annie. And she was calling again. And even though Erin wanted to avoid her for a few more days, she knew that she couldn't. She had to be a mature adult and mature adults do not avoid and ignore friends. Erin swiped her finger across the screen to answer and placed it on speaker, "Finally," she hears Annie sigh in relief.

"Yeah, sorry I've been busy these last couple of days."

"I've been calling you for a week now."

"You know work keeps me occupied."

She lies smoothly. And Annie wants to stay frustrated but she called for a reason. The many missed calls, text messages and voicemails telling Erin to call her right back were for an important reason. She waved the developing argument to the side as she got straight to the point, "Have you spoken to Charlie?"

Erin is taken aback, "No," she dryly chuckles; there's no humor in her laugh, "Why?"

This pulls in the attention of Severide and Halstead; the latter of the two wishing he were presently there in person. Annie's quiet, dramatically and nerve-rackingly quiet and it frustrates Erin and forces her to repeat herself, "Why Annie?"

"He got into contact with me."

"You answered?"

"It wasn't on purpose. He called from the number of a mutual friend."

"I thought you didn't talk to anyone from our childhood but me."

"Yeah, well, you're miles away and you apparently don't answer my phone calls."

"What did Charlie say, Annie?" It was Serveride who interrupted in an effort to steer the conversation back on topic.

Annie was silent. She was skeptical and suspicious about the other voice on the phone. She was prepared to question the intruding voice when Kelly spoke again, "It's Severide." She recognizes the name. It's Erin's friend.

"He said he was going to pay you a visit, Erin."

Erin doesn't appear to be worried, "He doesn't know where I live."

"Yes he does."

Her eyes squint and her brows furrow, "How?"

"Erin…"

"How?" Erin repeated firmly.

"I accidentally let it slip."

"Goddamn it, Annie!"

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

Erin doesn't waste a second to hang up. She doesn't wait for an explanation, she doesn't care how it came out and she especially doesn't care about Annie's apology because she's pissed; she separated herself from that lifestyle, from those people and that old part of her. Being friends with Annie kept her connected to that chapter of her past that she tries to forget. Annie has a forever connection to Charlie through Travis; Erin doesn't.

Jay sits speechless as he takes in the entire situation. He doesn't know her history with Charlie; he only knows how she feels about him from the day he met Annie officially. She inhaled a sharp breath and released it slowly, "Fuck her."

"Erin," Severide sighs, reaching his arm out to pull her towards him.

And all Jay can do is watch as they interact. He can only watch as Severide circles his arms around her, hold her close and reassure her that Charlie needs to be the least of her concerns. And he didn't even know the history there; he didn't know Charlie's deal, what he put them through or why she's been avoiding him for years. He didn't know any of it.

"What's going on?" he asked, his eyebrows furrowed.

Erin pulled out of Kelly's hold, "I forgot you were there. I'm sorry."

"Don't do that," he whispered, "Don't apologize for how you feel. I remember you telling me that. Now, what's going on?"

Erin swallowed back the knot developing in her throat, "Apparently Charlie is probably on his way here now that he knows where I live."

"And who is Charlie again?"

"He's the father of Annie's son," Erin answers, turning to face the screen completely, "He ruined my life. He's the one who introduced me to the drugs. He knocked me around a few times when I was younger; he pretty much lowered my self-esteem and made me feel like I needed him. I kept him a secret from my family even when they questioned the bruises. To protect Annie, I took the brunt of his anger especially after she got pregnant."

Severide ventures over to the cookie jar, looking inside in search of some sort of sweet snack as she confessed another aspect of her past. He already knew the story; he knew every single gruesome detail. Charlie was the worst thing to ever happen to Erin and Annie. And while the former was good at keeping her distance, the latter absolutely sucked at it.

Erin ran her hand over her face, "I uh…I never slept with him thank God, but he didn't make it easy. He pressured, he persuaded and he did everything in his power to try to convince me that sleeping with him was best for me. Annie was more naïve than I was and you see where that got her. It got her forever linked to him and now she can't get away and it seems I can't either."

Jay took her words in; he consumed her history and interpreted it the best way he could. He wanted to be there, to help her, comfort her and protect her, but he couldn't. He was stuck miles away in Atlanta, Georgia. He wanted desperately to wrap his arms around her, to kiss the side of her head and hold her close but he couldn't. And now when he was going to speak, Ruzek happened to walk in and practically thrust his head in the camera frame, "Hey Er!"

Halstead shoved Ruzek away with his elbow, "I'm in the middle of a conversation."

Ruzek rolled his eyes and dropped his arm over Jay's shoulders, smiling, speaking loudly and leaning into the camera frame, "When are we going to see you again?"

"I'm going to try to make it for your concert in Miami." Erin uses the back of her hands to wipe beneath her eyes; she plasters on a fake smile as Adam peers into the camera.

Jay jabbed at his friend again, "What are you doing here? Can't you see I'm busy?"

"You're late for sound check. I was sent to get you."

"Sound check doesn't start until three."

Ruzek shoves his watch in Jay's face and whispers, "It's half past three."

"Shit," Jay jumps off his bed, practically shoving his laptop on the unmade mattress, "Er-"

"You have to call me back later?"

"I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it," the smile on her face is completely bogus and it breaks his heart; he never wanted a fake smile from her, "I know you have work and that's important."

"You're important too," Jay asserted, tightening his belt, "I uh…I wish I didn't have to cut this short," he pulls a t-shirt over his head, "I want you to text me updates. And tell your friend that he better watch your back."

The call disconnects before she or even Kelly have a chance to respond. He was busy. He had work; she couldn't fault him for that. She shuts her laptop. She crosses her arms on the kitchen island and rests her forehead on her forearms, "This fucking sucks."

Severide slid a plate full of cookies onto the kitchen island, setting it down directly in front of Erin. He sat down on the kitchen stool beside her, "Penny for your thoughts?"

"Is that all they're worth to you?"

"You know they're worth more than that," he took her hand gently in his own, "but you're right about one thing," she lifts her head to question him, "this fucking sucks."

Erin laughed loudly –and unattractively- but she couldn't find it in herself to care as she slapped her hands over her face, muffling the sound of her laughter, "I love you," she reached for a cookie and grabbed two in order to pull them apart. During their time in the oven yesterday when she baked them, they melted and cooked together.

Kelly laughed under his breath –kind of awkwardly and dryly, "I love you too. And whatever mess Charlie tries to bring to your door, I'll solve it."

"I'll take care of Jessica."

"And I'll take care of Charlie," he reached for a cookie.

-x-

It's not that he doesn't enjoy the benefits of being a hot-shot musician, a rock star with deep pockets, an endless stream of women and fans that would literally do anything for him. There's something about the thrill he gets from performing on stage, the adrenaline that rushes through him when he's singing and the rush of emotions that courses through his every vein. He loves to perform, he loves to write his own music and he loves to play his electric guitar. He absolutely loves his job. At least, that part of it.

On the other hand, the paparazzi are a big enough problem to make him question it all. They follow him everywhere, absolutely everywhere: the grocery store, the bar, the gas station and every other random location that comes to mind. Sometimes he has to go so far as to conceal his identity just to venture out to grab a bite to eat.

Bad-temperedly, he pulls the hood of his hoodie over his head. It's August and he's in the south and it's technically not even hoodie weather, but if he has to be extremely hot in order to venture off in peace to a taco stand in downtown Atlanta then so be it.

Jay felt restless. He felt like at any moment someone would recognize him and draw attention towards him. He managed to walk the three blocks to the taco stand without any interruption. He even managed to order three tacos with all the fixings without anyone noticing that the lead singer of District 21 is currently standing alone in a crowded city without security, his bandmates or his manager. He shoves his hands into his jeans pockets and tilts his head down to hide his recognizable face. His number is called; he grabs his bag of food.

And his phone rings; it's a video call.

His lips curl to a smile when he sees the face of his girlfriend light up his phone screen and he doesn't hesitate to answer. Shuffling the bag under one arm while the other fumbles to swipe across the screen, he is relieved to already have earphones plugged into his device. He shoves the buds into his ears and waits for their signals to connect the call, "Hey babe."

The effect she has on him; the weight her words have on him is immeasurable. His cheeks hurt from smiling.

"Hi."

He has no proper, stable connection but he upgraded his data and has plenty of money he's willing to spend on it so he isn't too worried when he turns his Wi-Fi off and allows his data to be used in order to get a steady connection with no static and choppy imaging.

"I have good news." It's the end of the week; he was expecting a phone call from her.

"I can never hear enough good news."

"I have some free time," her words intrigue him; he slows down his walk back to the hotel, "in two weeks to be more specific."

"Two weeks," he whispers.

"Yeah, in two weeks for three days," she elaborates.

"Three days," he repeats.

She chuckles, "Are you going to repeat everything I'm saying?"

"Yeah, pretty much. That's what I was going for."

Jay makes it back to his hotel without being spotted. He catches the elevator just before it closes and he turns his head away from the four other people standing inside of it. He listens as Erin tells him about her day; listing off every moment from the second she woke up to the second she called him. He was careful to comment, knowing that his voice is familiar and if anyone in the elevator with him was a fan they would immediately recognize it. His hood covered his head, creating a dark shadow over his face, "Er," he whispers the second he steps out of the elevator, "I'm just getting to my room," he keys the card in, "I'm going to call you from my laptop."

The transition from his phone to his laptop was quick and easy. The connection was much better than it had been on his trek back to the hotel. He sits his laptop down on the desk provided in the master bedroom of his suite and begins to unload his food from the brown paper bag. He prepares to bite into a taco, when he hears movement inside of the closest bathroom. Furrowing his brows and stiffening his posture, he glances over his shoulder to stare at the closed door of his master bathroom –the door that he could have sworn he kept open.

Jay rises from his seat and takes a few quick steps to the door. He doesn't knock; he would be damned if he even thought about knocking. This was his suite. Whoever is in there would be lucky if they didn't get a fist to the face from him. He gripped the door knob and stormed in, "You have a lot of fucking nerve," he comes to a stop when he spots Kim.

Burgess stepped back from the bathroom sink, where she had been applying her eyeliner. Since she and Adam were going out for their anniversary, she was dressed up in a slim-fit purple dress.

"What are you doing here?"

"Adam is taking forever in our bathroom," she retorted as she moved back to the mirror to apply eyeliner to her left eye, "I didn't think you would mind."

"I'm about to video chat with my girlfriend."

She got the hint. She understood. She went through the long distance relationship thing. And she knew that free moments such as these were rare and they should take advantage of them. She collects her makeup bag and hustles herself out of the bathroom, down the hall and he sighs when he hears the door to his hotel suite close.

Jay calls and she answers in less than half a second. Her laptop positioned on the coffee table and she's sitting on the floor, legs crossed and fingers pulling at a loose strand of her sleep shorts. She's definitely a sight for sore eyes.

"How's everything? Last time we spoke there was a Charlie issue."

Erin shrugs, eyes cast downward as the loose strand of her pajama shorts seem to hold her attention, "I haven't heard anything. Annie tried getting into contact with him."

"Do you think he'll hurt you?"

"No," she answers pretty quick, finally lifting her head to look up at him, "Charlie's not that stupid. I'm not scared of him. I'm more curious and nervous about what he wants; I haven't spoken to him since I was a kid, Jay. What does he want? Why won't he leave me alone?"

"What do your guys think?"

"I'm not sure," she blushes, "I haven't told them."

"Erin…"

"It wasn't on purpose. It's just-" her words are cut off by the sound of arguing. She silences herself and listens carefully, her body sitting up straight and stiffening at the sound of a familiar voice, "I…uh," she tries to steer the conversation back on track but the arguing gets louder.

Erin slides the laptop closer to the edge of the table. Jay's glancing at the front door from over her shoulder, half expecting it to open up and show him just who is arguing on the other side. She tries to gain his attention but he cannot seem to draw his eyes away from the front door especially as the argument gets louder and more intense.

"I'll go check it out," Severide appears from the guestroom and walks barefoot to the door.

As Severide slips outside of the front door, she turns her attention back to Jay. Smiling casually at him, she finds herself hoping they can talk about anything besides the commotion outside.

"What's on your agenda for today?"

"Nothing important," he waves it off, eyes still focused on her front door.

The arguing gets louder. The commotion is distracting. And if they didn't quiet down at some point she was probably going to get a call from the front desk complaining about the noise.

Erin sighs and pushes herself to her feet, "I guess now's a better time as any."

"Where are you going?"

"…to do damage control."

"Take the laptop with you."

She looks down at the screen in mock disbelief, "I am not carrying a whole laptop with me to the hallway to argue with a guy from my past."

"Erin…"

"Don't worry," she reassures, slowly backing away from the screen, "Severide has my back."

"He better!" His voice echoes down the hallway as she walks further from the laptop and closer to the front door.

With the laptop sitting on the coffee table, angled and facing the hallway that leads to the front door, he's at an advantage and disadvantage to the scenario on the other end. He's close enough to hear the murmurs of what's going on, but he's too far to do anything. He's stuck. He's practically handcuffed, so close yet so far away. He's forced to watch helplessly as his girlfriend needs support. And the support and comfort that she needs she's getting from Severide.

When Erin opens the door, she holds it open, leaning against the threshold as she crosses her arms and rolls her eyes at Charlie's presence. She sees Capp with his hand hovering above the strapped holster of his weapon. Severide has his forearm pressed against the front of Charlie's neck as Charlie's back is forced against the wall.

"What's going on?"

"I was just about to escort him off the premises," Capp spoke up, removing his hand from the holster of his weapon.

"Erin, it's so good to see you," Charlie grinned, shoving Severide away from him, "I was just telling these lovely men here that we're old friends."

"I wouldn't really describe us as old friends."

"Aw don't be like that," he starts to walk over, but Capp –being on guard- takes an immediate and protective stand in front of her, his hand back on the holster of his weapon.

Erin maneuvered around Capp; she knew Charlie wouldn't physically hurt her. He wasn't that stupid. He knows who her father is and he knows that her current guard has a duty to protect her life even at the expense of his own. Charlie wasn't an idiot.

"What do you want?"

"I wanted to catch up."

"That's not happening," she stated matter of fact, "now that we cleared that up, you can show yourself off of my property."

"Erin…"

"Charlie, goodbye."

"Don't be like that. You know I know you better than anyone."

"If you're still here in the next five seconds then I'll have my guard make good on his promise and escort you the hell out of here."

"Erin…"

She shakes her head, "No."

"Erin…"  
"Times up," she glances over her shoulder, "Capp, would you mind?"

"It would actually be my absolute pleasure."

Capp moves forward, gripping Charlie's forearms before bringing them behind his back. He shoves the man towards the staircase, choosing to take the longer route than necessary in order to give him a clear and detailed warning.

"Before I go," Charlie grunted after Capp shoved him against the door leading to the stairwell, "I just wanted to tell you Er that just because you pretend I don't exist doesn't mean I'm going away. You got money and lots of it. I know your account has more zeros than I can count and I want a part of it. If not, I'll just write a tell-all book. I'm sure the voters would just love a book about how America's sweetheart used to experiment with drugs and alcohol, skipped school to hang with a bunch of dropouts, lost her virginity at the age of 15 and had a friend who got pregnant as a teenager. We'll see how the polls take that. I hope to hear from you." Capp shoves him through the stairwell door.

Standing under the threshold of the front door, Erin contemplates it all. He's basically blackmailing her. And if she doesn't give him what he wants then he'll release it all. Her stomach twist and turns; she feels sick. She wraps her arms around her waist just as Severide wraps his large ones around her, pulling her in close and placing a kiss upon her forehead, "We'll figure this out."

"I'm such a fuck up," Erin mumbled against Severide's shoulder, "Every time I feel like I've moved on from some part of my past it all comes back. Capp might have gotten rid of him now but this isn't over. He's going to come back."

Severide presses a kiss to the side of her head and then presses another until he feels her start to smile against his shoulder, "And if he does, he'll have to go through your guys and then me. Er, you know after all we've been through together, I won't let anything happen."

"He won't hurt me."

"Physically," he corrects. He knows her too well.

"Yeah, he won't hurt me physically."

"But he knows what to say to hurt you emotionally."

"He just pisses me off."

"I know," he's validating her emotions.

"I just want him to leave me and Annie the hell alone."

"I know…"

"I don't want the old Erin to come back."

"And she won't; I promise you that."

"How could you possibly make that promise?"

Severide's tongue ran across his bottom lip as he found himself deep in thought, "…because I'm right here; by your side."

"By my side," she repeats.

"Yeah, always."

Erin nodded and ducked into his shoulder, wrapping her arms around his torso. Kelly responded as expected, wrapping his arms around her and tightening his hold as much as physically possible. And all Jay can do is feel helpless as he watches another guy comfort his girlfriend.


	27. Erin's Song

Jay made some kind of strange sound when she all but launched herself towards him, into his arms, throwing him back against the wall to make sure they didn't fall onto the floor. He clenched onto her tighter than was probably necessary; he was holding onto her as if she were a flotation device keeping him afloat. His face buried into her neck, hidden by the curtain of her hair as they rocked side to side. She was back where she belonged. She was back in his arms.

Knowing that they were going to be reunited made the weeks go on by at an extremely slow pace. And to fill the free moments in between he wrote, and wrote and wrote until he had an unedited version of her song completed. The song he wrote for her, in dedication to her is done, but for some reason it feels like it's missing something. He couldn't have her hear it until it reached its final copy.

Jay couldn't stop himself from brushing her hair back from her face and kissing her. They were once again in the same state, the same city and the same location. After their brief reunion in the Miami airport, it was only inevitable that they picked up where they left off in the hotel lobby. He had her back. Considering the last time he saw her in person, things were pretty intense, it felt good to be back on mutual ground where the misunderstandings rest in the past. He continued kissing her; she was just so kissable and if he had any say in the matter, he would continue to kiss her in the lobby of this hotel where people were most likely taking photos and gossiping among themselves. And he didn't care about it one bit, his hands tightened around her waist, pulling her body further against his. Erin chuckled into his mouth, but when he took the opportunity to slip his tongue past her lips, the laugh turned into a moan, "Easy there tiger."

She pats his chest in an effort to slowly back away from the kiss. Her face was flushed, her lips were red and her outfit was a bit out of order. She adjusted the short-sleeved, burgundy romper, self-consciously pulling the bottom of it down even though it won't go past her mid-thigh. The neckline of her romper dipped low presenting her boyfriend with a view that there was no way he would be able to resist later. He was supposed to be meeting his bandmates at miniature golf in an hour; that wasn't enough time to take her upstairs and show her just how much he has missed her. And by the look on her face, it appears she's thinking the same. She's rocking side to side, standing in nude heels with her suitcase propped up beside her, "Besides miniature golf, what's on the agenda?"

Jay thumbed the dent in her chin, "My concert starts at seven tonight. We'll play stupid mini golf and then you and I are coming back here and I am going to fuck your brains out."

Erin swallowed, pretty hard. Her mouth was dry. Her lips were even dryer. She licked them but that didn't seem to moisten them enough. She gripped the handle of her suitcase and withdrew the hotel keycard from his pocket, "Are you sure we don't have the time?"

"If we start now, we'll never make it to miniature golf."

And so they didn't start, they didn't touch, they didn't kiss and they didn't do anything that would lead to them saying forget mini golf, prop the do not disturb handle on the doorknob and completely ignore all phone calls and text messages. It was going to be hard to wait, to prolong sex now that they're in each other's orbit. Whose idea was it to go mini golfing anyway? The Florida temperature outside was humid and dry; the palm trees weren't even blowing because there was absolutely no wind. Her skin was sticky from sweat and she was already sporting a tan after standing at 'hole one' waiting for her turn to hit her pink golf ball. Her tennis shoes didn't match her romper but she knew her nude heels would not survive on the AstroTurf.

She was second to last to go, Jay volunteering to go last after Rixton attempted to make her the last. She honestly didn't mind but Jay knew it was done out of malice and his way to appease a nonexistent problem, he volunteered to swing after her.

"Alright Erin, it's your turn," Burgess was particularly extra chipper today with Erin in town.

The first daughter set her ball down and angled her golf club at what she assumed was the perfect angle to hit the ball. She glanced over her shoulder to spot Jay, brow raised, golf club propping him up as he watched and waited. She shook the tension out of her hips and focused back on the layout. Being the first hole, it was simple; it was a straight shot, no curves, no tubes, no props, no tunnels, no ramps, no windmills and no water in sight. She looked to her right to see Violet and Devon; it seems their opinion of her hasn't changed since Los Angeles. If she had to go by their whispered voices, the look on their faces as they watched her, smirking with a mischievous gleam in their eyes. She glanced to her left, spotting her guards spread out and positioned around the turf, protectively watching the busy scene as if at any moment someone would strike. Her eyes zeroed in on Sorensen; he's back, he's healthy and he's better. A few of the bruises have disappeared while others are of a lighter color; his ribs are healing and he's been restricted to light work. He can only observe; he's not allowed to act.

"Any day now Voight," Rixton shouted from the second hole; there was a look of annoyance on his face as he waited impatiently for her to hit. And when she did, and the ball rolled and stopped nowhere near the hole, he had a good laugh off of that. His laugh being echoed by Violet and Devon as they shook their heads and watched as she moved to her ball and gave it another hit.

It didn't go in. It actually took four attempts before it did in fact roll in.

"At this rate we'll be here all night and you all will miss your concert," Violet clipped, lifting her purple golf club and moving towards the second hole.

It was Jay's turn at the first hole and he was really good, earning a hole in one. Erin gave him a friendly pat on the back in an effort to congratulate him only for him to seize her wrist and gently pull her towards him, "Don't let him get to you."

"He's not…"

The look on Jay's face was mock disbelief; he didn't believe her, "Erin…"

"I'm serious, Jay. He's not getting to me. Now let's finish the game. The sooner we do so the sooner we can get back to your room and you can have your wicked way with me," she leaned forward and pressed the lightest of kisses against the corner of his mouth.

By the time they reached 'hole five', the gossiping between Violet and Devon and the snide comments from Rixton were, in fact, starting to get to her. She hid it well though. No one knew.

By the time they reached 'hole eight', everyone knew. From the look on her face, the tension in her posture and the aggressive swing of her golf club against the ball was proof enough. Her ball went into the water. She could have gotten a new one from the main desk but there were only two holes left and she could just wait for Jay to finish. She didn't have to wait long though. For someone who had made three holes in one out of the seven previous holes, it was obvious he screwed up hole eight out of some sort of camaraderie.

The game was close to being over but with both of them out; he didn't find a need for them to wait. He whispered in Mouse's ear, grabbed her hand and waved for her guards to follow. They hopped into the backseat of the rental truck, closed their eyes and released a sigh of relief that they were now separated from his band. One of her hands covered his heart while the other was grabbed and intertwined with his fingers, "Are you okay?"

Atwater and Roman are watching them interact. Is she okay? They were just as curious about the answer as Jay seemed to be. She shrugged and answered as honestly as possible, "I guess."

"That's not an answer."

"Yeah, I'm okay," she lied smoothly. And he saw through it but didn't call her out on it.

"You know," he brings her hand up to his lips, "there's a hot tub in my suite. I'm sure we could get some use out of it. It's been a long day and I'm sure we deserve to relax our muscles."

"…especially before your concert," she adds.

And he smiles and nods slowly, "…especially before my concert," he repeats.

And with his concert starting in exactly five hours, he knew he had to be there at least an hour before so that left them with four hours to spare. No time was wasted. The second they walked into his suite, she grabbed her suitcase and disappeared into the bathroom, leaving him to turn the Jacuzzi on, strip out of his clothing and slowly ease his sore and tired muscles inside. He stretched his arms out and rested them on the rim of the hot tub, leaning his head back; he closed his eyes to take in the sound of the city around him.

Jay reopened his eyes when he hears Erin sigh as she sank further into the hot tub. His focus directed on her; his senses were overwhelmed with the sight. Jay couldn't seem to pull his gaze away from her, away from the white bikini she's wearing and away from the droplets of water that were winding their way over her bare skin. He pushed through the warm, bubbling water towards her, already tired of the space between them.

"I'm really glad you were able to come," he whispered, pushing a damp strand of hair out of her face, "I've missed you more than I'm comfortable admitting."

"Why are you uncomfortable acknowledging how much you've missed me?"

"It's just," he pauses in an attempt to put his words together, "I'm me," he tries to explain, pulling her onto his lap so he could wrap his arms around her waist and hold her in place, "and you know my history and I've been getting better with opening myself up to you, not really to anyone else, just _you_ , but I guess I don't want to be seen as weak. And growing up in my household, my dad cemented it in our heads that emotions are a weakness."

Slowly, bringing her arms up to wrap around his neck, she whispered, "Yeah it can be a weakness if used as a tool to manipulate, but it's a strength too, Jay. It's a price we pay to be human. Emotions motivate me; it's what drives me to work hard every day to right the wrongs of society. Emotions can be complicated but no one wants to live without love, happiness and joy. Yeah, we have the occasional bad emotions but without those we wouldn't appreciate the good ones," she told him, gently combing her wet fingers through the hair at the base of his neck, "I'm comfortable admitting how much I miss you, how much I love and adore you. And I don't want to rush you because I'm so happy you feel open enough to at least admit to _me_ that you love me, but I don't want you feeling any sort of regret inside out of fear that I'll love you less because you think you're being weak."

"I love you so fucking much," he sighed, nuzzling his face in the crook of her neck.

-x-

An hour, maybe a little more than that later, Jay found himself thrusting into her when her phone annoyingly rang obnoxiously loud. She averted her gaze from his and over to her device resting against the end table beside the bed.

He grunted, "Don't you dare answer that," and as if to remind her of the reason why, he started thrusting even harder, proving a point that didn't need to be proven.

"I…" she groaned; her voice hitting an unexpected pitch, "I wasn't going to," she finally managed to say. The call was ignored. The call went to voicemail and someone left a message.

"Good," he said breathily, "because I've waited too long," he brought his hands up to her breasts, cupping them, "I've waited too fucking long for this."

Jay released her breasts and dragged his hands down along her sides, holding her hips as some sort of anchor to increase the pressure of his thrusts. His eyes were open as he took in the look of pleasure across her face; his heart skipped a beat at the sight of it, knowing that he's the only one touching her like this, looking at her like this and loving her like this.

"Oh my god, Jay," she cried out on a particularly hard thrust as he fully deposited every part of his member inside of her, "Yes, right there, yes!"

Halstead grit his teeth and kept his pace, eyes focused down on the bounce of her breasts as he rocked into her, "That's right babe," he urged her, "Let go. Take it all in." He was seconds away and he refused to find that needed bliss without her.

He leaned forward, "Erin…" The sound of his whispering voice sent her hurtling over the edge. She wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him as she cried out his name over and over and over again as every fiber of her being and every muscle in her body tensed with vast pleasure, wave after wave of it coursing through her as she trembled around him.

The feeling of her walls gripping him as she fell headlong into her release had him increasing his pace. He thrust into her wildly as he chased his own release, "Erin, I'm gonna-"

He snapped his hips into her four more times before he buried and held himself as deeply inside of her as physically possible, a sharp yelp from her accompanying his final thrust as the dam finally burst; his discharge released wave upon waves inside of her. His breath was shallow, his eyes were screwed shut and his jaw was tense when he reached his peak.

Erin's face and chest was tinged in pink and red from exertion; her chest rising and falling with each deep breath. It took every ounce of strength he had not to collapse and pass out on top of her. He was left weak and shaky. And his body eventually failed him, causing him to collapse forward, his chest flopping down upon hers, "That was…" he exhaled slowly, trying and struggling to find the words.

"Yeah…" she whispered, fully knowing and understanding what he was trying to say.

Her fingers ran through his hair as his head remained positioned between her breasts. Their sweaty bodies molded together as he remained lying above her on the king-sized bed. His head rose and fell with each breath she took and his member started to stiffen back up inside of her.

"Babe," she cleared her throat, "you're squishing me."

"Sorry," he immediately replied, lifting his head and resting his weight upon his forearms. He smiled down at her, taking in her flushed face, dimpled cheeks and stormy eyes. She was absolutely beautiful, even more stunning and she was all his.

Jay leaned forward and kissed her languidly one more time before slipping out of her and rolling to the side, breathing deeply to try to steady his hammering heart, "God woman," his chest rose and fell, "I fucking love you."

And he needed to finish that song to show her just how much.

"Yeah, well the feeling's mutual."

His hand reached out for her waist and drew her in close, flushing the front of her naked body against his own, "Before the concert, we have a toast backstage. The band, Will and I, you know, we're all a family and we toast and take a shot. We do it before every concert and I know Los Angeles was a bit crazy, but I would love if you were a part of that this year."

"Are you sure?" She ran her hand along the side of his face, "I don't want to impose. If it's a family ritual sort of thing I don't know if I belong there."

Erin looked at Jay and felt him tense up a little. She could tell that her questioning the family aspect had hurt him, it made him uncomfortable; she didn't know that he felt so passionate about this. It was true that she felt hopeful and elated at the thought of belonging and being accepted by his group of friends. She didn't have many friends, many loved ones and people she could trust so to be a part of his family unit would be appreciated, it would be something she would never take for granted, but she didn't want to overstep, to intrude and encroach on a relationship that was already established. She wanted this. By the look on his face, he didn't think she did. She instantly regretted her last statement.

"Of course I'll go if you want me there," she whispered, her hand ran over his cheek gently before she kissed away the slight pout on his lips.

"I wouldn't have invited you if I didn't want you there and besides," he smirked, "if you're there I know you're safe and sober."

"Are you going to let me live Los Angeles down?"

"Not anytime soon," he remarked, as he felt her roll him over onto his back, hovering above him and peering down into his surprised eyes.

She lowered her mouth onto his, kissing him with an unrestrained passion. His arms circled around her naked body, pulling her warm flesh against his own.

Erin dragged a kiss along the tribal tattoo outlining his upper arm, shoulder and upper peck. The black spirals, coils and curves of the complex design shaped his muscles. Her face hovers above his, her hair curtains around both of their faces, "I'm going to take a shower. We have to leave in the next hour if we want to be on time."

"Want company?"

She chuckles, leaning low to give him one last quick peck, "While showering with you sounds amazing, we both know where it'll lead and we don't have time for that," she crawls off of him, "and my body needs to recuperate from the last time."

As she rises, he smacks her behind before she takes off towards the bathroom. Giggling flirtatiously and purposely leaving her clothes in the bedroom, he knows when she comes out it'll take all of his willpower to not end up in bed again. He hears the shower water cut on; he'll take a quick shower after her, but for now, he needed a distraction. His phone seemed to always be a reliable one and when he sees there are at least 20 voicemail notifications, he knows by the time he finishes listening to them, she should be out of the shower.

Jay scrolls through the few, purposely passing the ones from his bandmates, the two from his father –he only called when he wanted something- and a few from unknown numbers. He probably won't listen to those. He scrolled past all of them with the intent to select and listen to Erin's. She left him two –one time stamped before she boarded her plane and one time stamped for after she landed. The first, while very brief, informed him of a reminder of her arrival time, her airline and what she's wearing so he could easily recognize her –as if he wouldn't be able to recognize her. The second was his favorite. It's simple and to the point but it possessed just what he needed. She arrived. She was calling because she was looking for him. By the end, she tells him that she spotted him and she was waving her arm in the air. She ends it with a declaration of love; she ends it with a lighthearted giggle followed with an 'I love you too.' She was still on the phone when he spotted her in the airport; her 'I love you too' was in response to him mouthing it towards her the second their eyes linked in the airport. It was caught on audio.

Then it hits him.

This is what he needed.

This is it.

It's a voicemail. He can save it. It's from her. _I love you too_. It's her voice, her words and her declaration that puts him in an even bigger mood. It never fails to do something to him. It gets a rise out of him. It causes his heart to race faster yet it calms him at the same time.

This is what was missing. This is what he needed.

He saves the voicemail. This is what his song needed. The ending felt incomplete but now…now he found the perfect way to conclude the melody, her melody. Her voice. Her returned declaration of love to him. He could envision it now; his band playing the beat of the song, his voice carrying the notes that fill each chord and then as the melody fades away, her voice, her _I love you too_ , is ghosted over the last strum of his electric guitar. It's perfect.

-x-

Jay slid out of the car effortlessly before extending his hand back to help Erin out. And with the paparazzi and fans shouting, taking videos and capturing photos at an alarming rate neither could bring themselves to care. They were back together for the next three days. Neither wanted to spend what little time they have together arguing with his overeager fans and the overworked paparazzi and celebrity news broadcasters.

As they walked towards the front of the arena, cameras flashing, videos recording, questions shouted and declarations of love professed, he pulled her into his side with care, grinning at the flashing cameras. The palm trees in Miami blew in the afternoon breeze; he might have to take her out to the beach later, just the two of them; they can try to ditch her guards at some point later in the evening when they venture off to their room for the night. Miami Beach nightlife was something he always wanted to partake in; he's never had the chance in the past, but now that she's here for three days maybe they can club hop at some point during her stay. There are so many things he wanted to do with her here in Florida, but it didn't feel as if they had enough time. With two days left, there was no way he would be able to fit everything he wants to do and everything he needs to do in the span of 48 hours.

Jay pulled open the entrance door to the arena and with his hand on her lower back, guided her inside. The second the door shut with a click behind them, he intertwined his hand with hers and led her towards the dressing room. The backstage area felt like a wave with them weaving in and out of hallways and through labeled doorways in their effort to approach the designated room for the band to get dressed, get their hair and makeup done, eat, take a breather and relax. Once they approached the door, Atwater held it open as they entered and were greeted with a chorus of hellos and about time.

"Sorry we're late," Erin waved at everyone as she followed her boyfriend into the room.

"Actually," Kim handed her a glass of champagne, "you're right on time," she hands Jay a glass, "Will was just about to start his toast."

Halstead glanced at the glass of champagne, confused, "I thought we were taking shots."

"Well…someone forgot to pick up the tequila," her eyes flashed towards her husband before averting back to Jay, "anyway; the champagne will have to do."

Erin felt Natalie brush them further into the room, moving them towards the table of refreshments. Her hand remained in her boyfriend's hold the entire time as Will raised a plastic spoon and tapped it against his glass, "Attention! Attention! Now's time for our traditional toast," he began, ignoring the eye rolls from everyone around the room as he started.

Jay squeezes her fingers in his hold just as Will began his speech, "We're in Miami at our fifth concert on tour for District 21's second album," he chuckles at the sound of Rixton, Halstead and Ruzek's whoops and hollers, "and just like the tour and concerts before this we're going to blow the fans away! Jay has already started working on the third album; I started renting studio space for January so hopefully we'll have the album recorded by March and ready for release by May."

Erin glanced up in shock, meeting her boyfriend's eyes in proud amazement. He was the sole writer; he deserved way more recognition than he currently received.

"You're amazing. And you're so fucking talented," She had spoken so softly that he was certain he misheard her. And when he raised a brow in question, it forced her to repeat herself.

A bashful smile reached his face, tugging at the corners of his lips and causing a red tint –which he would fully deny to anyone that notices- to appear on his cheeks. He wasn't used to sincere compliments. He's heard the occasional praise of his appearance, the admiration of his wealth and the respect behind his status and bad boy reputation, but it wasn't too often he heard praise and compliments in regards to his talent and his creative ability. This was a first that he could remember and it came from her.

"No one's ever…"

Erin noted what he was most likely going to say. He never finished that thought.

"I love you," he whispered instead, finishing off his drink and kissing her hairline.

Will was still in the middle of his speech and everyone appeared to be distracted. The band's staff was currently making sure everything was in order for the concert to go off without a hitch. Their distraction was expected. Their participation in the toast was never expected. Rixton was filling his champagne glass _again_ even though technically he wasn't supposed to drink his first glass until the toast was done. Mouse was immersed in something on his cell. Burgess was trying to ignore Ruzek's attempts to distract her from the speech. And Natalie was the only one paying attention as the band's manager enthusiastically praised each member's success, the sold out arena, the fast rising of their celebrity status and the slow but sure turn of their reputation.

"It will always amaze me how you're managing to write a whole album by yourself while currently on tour. You're not given enough credit. You truly amaze me and I admire you wholeheartedly," she assured him; and it was in this moment that Jay felt like maybe Erin should start giving the pre-concert speeches and pep-talks. She truly had a way with words.

And Erin snorting into her glass of champagne had snapped him out of some daze he had been in only to realize that his last thought wasn't technically a thought. He had said it, out loud, instead.

As a result, Natalie shoved him in his side because Will decided to end his speech early. Rixton, Mouse and Ruzek were fully in-tune with the conversation now that it started to get interesting. And Erin…oh, his Erin. She leaned up a little and reached to bring Jay's head down to her height. The second her lips met his, they were being pulled apart. Jay had hair, makeup, wardrobe and sound check. There wasn't any time for kissing.

-x-

Erin is in the front row, standing between Burgess and Natalie. Her hips rock side to side, her eyes are closed and her mouth sang the lyrics to the first song the band performed. This was one of her favorite songs, one of the first songs she learned off their album. She felt free listening to it. And hearing the thousands of fans in the arena screaming the lyrics in return, accompanied by declarations of love and adoration had her feeling warm inside. The music her boyfriend wrote, his band produced and performed touch more hearts and more souls than anyone could possibly imagine. It was empowering. It was humbling.

Her seat was between Kim and Natalie's, but the two women remained sitting; Natalie on her phone, probably texting Will to make sure everything is going according to plan and there are no crises that need averting and Kim is sitting, playing some sort of game on her cell. The two women were used to the concerts, the fans, and the performances, and maybe at some point Erin would be just like them, coming to show support but not really paying too much attention because she's used to it all, but as of right now, she couldn't see that happening anywhere in the near future.

When she reopened her eyes, she saw him staring at her, watching her as she danced in place. He was happy and she was too. She was happier than she could describe, happier than any human truly deserved. He sent her a wink and it only made her dance harder and sing louder. She found herself mouthing I love you and she knew he would have said it in return if he wasn't currently holding a high note. The first song easily transitioned into the second and this one was of a faster beat and pace than the last. She couldn't dance the entire time; her heart already felt like it was about to beat out of her chest, her forehead is shining with sweat and her feet were starting to hurt in the high heels she was wearing. Why did she think it was a good idea to wear heels? Her boyfriend sent her another wink. And that's when she remembered the answer to that question. It was a good idea because Jay convinced her it was a good idea; he convinced her with touches, with kisses and most importantly with that insatiable look.

At this point into the second song, his hand was wrapped around the microphone as he dipped it low to allow a few nearby fans to sing the next line. His voice got a break, even if it was only for a few seconds, it was needed. He rose back up, clenching the microphone and holding his hand out to touch the tens of hands being stretched out towards him from the audience. They absolutely love him. And no matter how much they may bother her, or insult her, or even invade her personal space and private life, they adored her boyfriend and that was something she had in common with them.

By the third song, a pair of panties and a matching bra was thrown onto the stage, landing at her boyfriend's feet. He glances down at them before looking back up at the audience, raising that brow she loves so much and giving a flirtatious wink as the audience screamed louder and louder. She wasn't bothered. She wasn't jealous. He was coming back to a hotel room with her by the end of the night. She could give the fans and all of his crushes this moment. When the third song ended, he chugged down an entire bottle of water as Ruzek starts beating the drums, beginning the intro of their fourth song. Rixton playing the keyboard starts to kick in while Jay grabs a hand towel off his stool to wipe the sweat from his forehead. He throws it onto the stage and proceeds to start singing the opening notes of some hard, rock song that has the audience jumping up and down and pounding their fists.

When the fifth song starts, she's absolutely exhausted. She finds herself flopping down into her seat in between Kim and Natalie. The latter extends an unopened water bottle in her direction, "Thanks," Erin appreciates the kind gesture. She uncaps the bottle and chugs down half its content. She sets it down by her feet only for Burgess to extend an opened pack of Twizzlers in her direction, "Thanks. I'm starving."

"I figured. You've probably danced off every calorie you consumed today."

Erin chuckled as she held the long twizzler above her head and lowered it into her opened mouth. She bit off as much as she could chew and lowered her to meet the eyes of her boyfriend; he was currently wrapping up the sixth song, the last song until intermission. His eyes were focused on hers, zeroing in on the red piece of candy in her hand as she took another enticingly slow bite causing for him to lick his lips. She adjusted herself in her seat, wrapping one leg over the other and squeezing her thighs together. As she grabbed another piece of candy, the fans stood to applause the closing of the final song leading to intermission. She watched as the band disappeared from the stage, a few workers of the arena walking out to collect the articles of clothing that were thrown onto the stage. Apparently while she was busy eating Twizzlers, more undergarments were added to the previous collection.

She observed as some of the thousands of fans in the large arena disappeared to venture off to the concession stands, the bathrooms or the gift shop. Music continued to play through the loud speakers to entertain the fans that remained in the arena. As she sat, eating her piece of candy and twirling a strand of her dirty blonde hair with her finger, Sarah, their hair and makeup artist appeared in front of her, "You're being requested backstage."

Sarah walks away, occasionally glancing over her shoulder to ensure that Erin was following her. She ate the last bite of her Twizzler just as she entered the room, the band, Will and the staff was lying around, socializing. She smirked –so this is the kind of things they did while backstage. Before she could completely walk into the room, she felt his hand envelope hers, drawing her back outside to the hallway and attacking her mouth with his. He kissed her, ravaging her mouth with his, thrusting his tongue inside without even waiting for her to allow him. She wanted this just as bad. Watching him on stage, moving around in the black leather pants he was forced to wear, the black eyeliner on his eyes and the dark, sexy look on his face had turned her on. He looked predatory like he was about to devour her. And she had no problem with that at all. His mouth was heated on hers, tongue wild, faces pressed together and the way they were making out was a sight that would send her parents to an early grave, scar children and enrage his fans. He gripped her hips, roughly propelling her body against his, "Closet or couch?"

She had a second to respond before he made the decision.

"I don't fucking care," Erin rasped out.

Thinking quickly on his feet, the chance of getting caught on the couch in the far corner of the hallway was higher than getting caught in the nearby supply closet. Supply closet it is. While roughly kissing her, he extended his hand to open the door, using his opposite hand to hold her waist and guide her inside. All the while keeping his lips locked on hers.

With her back pressed against the wall, Jay finally pulled his mouth from hers and began to drag his lips down her neck, biting and nipping against her tender flesh, imprinting a mark onto her collarbone. His lips moved against her skin, biting down until her flesh was pink, pulling on her skin until its red and easing the burn of his assault with the soft, smooth lick of his tongue. Jay couldn't resist sucking and biting a small mark into the skin of her collarbone; there was some primal instinct within him urging him to mark her as his own, to prove and show to any and every one that may like her, flirt with her and attempt to seduce her while they were apart that she belonged to him, that she was with him, that she was claimed for and taken.

"Shit, they're going to see that when I get back," she proclaimed, legs falling open to allow him to stand between them, hitching both of her thighs up until they're wrapped around his waist; he ground himself against her rising skirt and smirked at the moan that emitted from her mouth, "But, I don't care right now."

He could kiss her forever. He could stay in this small, dingy supply closet with her for the rest of his life. It had a funny smell to it –sweat mixed with cleaning supplies. He didn't spend too much time thinking about it, not with a gorgeous woman in his arms, waiting for his next plan of attack. He looked into her eyes, both staring at one another, both panting and as the seconds trickled by, they both wanted the same thing, they both leaned in and their lips collided. He was holding up her weight with his; his hand traced the dimple in her cheek, a few freckles were scattered around her shoulders as he started tugging her halter top down.

Watching her from the stage, watching how she danced and ate that Twizzler and sang his song, sang the lyrics to his song, a song he wrote and produced. She wore the heels he craved for her to wear. She wore a short black leather skirt that stopped just before her knees –a skirt that would have her father willing to declare war against _him_. She wore a burgundy, leather halter top that stopped a few inches above her leather skirt. The neckline dipped in far too low, outlining and curving her bosom and showing him just enough without giving it all away. If her parents saw, they would be scandalized. His hands ran along her creamy, smooth legs, drawing up towards her thighs until he hitched the skirt up above her stomach, "We'll have to be quick. I'll have to go back on stage soon and the last thing we want is for someone to find us."

Erin was squirming against him, desperate for him to touch her where she needed him the most. She was happy he wasn't going to take his time –she needed him now.

"Jay, please," she groaned the second he pressed himself up against her. He was still fully clothed. They didn't have time to strip each other down, but in the next couple of seconds he found the time to unbuckle his pants and maneuver the leather down his legs. She helps to tug the leather pants down, his boxer briefs follow until he's free, until he's unconfined. _Fuck_. Jay cursed the second Erin gripped him firmly in her soft hand, slowly working his tender muscle in her hand. Jay kissed her, pressing his lips demandingly against hers because she's actually here, at his concert, in Miami and flew all this way to see him. Erin wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer with every fiber of her being as she continued to work him.

"Hold on tight, Erin," he cautioned her, "I don't think I can be gentle. Not this time."

With her back pressed against the wall, being mindful of the shelf just to the right of them, he plunge in, inserting himself bare and raw into her warm flesh forcing her to yelp at the impact only to have the sound smothered by his lips against hers. He relished the feeling of sinking into her, a feeling that he's only able to feel with her. No one else, but her. One hand held firmly on her ass and other gripping the back of her neck maybe a little too rough but she wasn't complaining. Knowing that their time was limited, he kissed her with a renewed passion and desperation and rolled his hips into hers with a revitalized energy and abandon. She whimpered much louder than the last time as his prominent bulge moved in and out of her with more force than she's accustomed. Her hands slid down his covered chest, moving beneath the fabric of his black shirt in order to stroke his chiseled abdomen.

His eyes snapped shut. He hissed the second he felt her moving along with him. He had to take multiple deep breaths to ensure he didn't finish before her. His eyes reopened, locking his gaze with hers as he sheathed himself entirely within her. She was wrapped around him so tight and secure and it only forced him to move faster. The couple looked absolutely wrecked chasing a release they knew was soon approaching. She met his every move as they fell into a perfect rhythm. Rutting into her over and over again, she bit down upon her lip, trying to quiet her moans and whimpers. It didn't do much work; the feeling was too powerful. Every pump of his hips was bringing her closer and closer to the edge, to a desperate release that was inevitable.

"Oh my God, Jay," she cried out on an overwhelmingly hard thrust as they started to move in a faster yet steady pace; a frantic tangle of limbs standing in an upright position, "Jay!"

Her hands were no longer under his shirt. She was clenching his shoulders, her nails digging into the skin and she wouldn't be surprised if she drew blood. Erin couldn't help but to look in his eyes, staring at him as he stares back. It's a look of intensity. No words are being said, no moans, no grunts and no whimpers. All that is heard in the supply closet is the sound of skin slapping against skin. God, he loved this woman.

With an intensity set in their gaze, he lowered his hand between them to rub tight circles as he thrust faster and faster until she whimpered and cried out his name, "Jay!" His forehead fell on her shoulder; her release coerced his. She rolled her hips, coaxing him through his peak as she felt him jet his release into her. Their breaths were heavy and hot. They didn't have the time to blissfully take in the falling down of their release. Just as soon as he entered her, he pulled out, disconnecting their bodies in one swift motion. When her feet were back on the ground, he steadied her with his large hands, smirking at the look of complete and absolute satisfaction on her face. She was thoroughly ravished.

As he adjusted his boxers and then his leather pants, she had to gather her wits about her. Her heart was pumping, her pulse was erratic, she was out of breath and her legs felt like all amounts of bone and strength had disappeared and if it wasn't for his hand against her waist then she would have definitely fallen over. Her hands were gripping his biceps and her face was flushed against his shoulder, she was still collecting her breath and she was close to finally leveling it out when the supply door closet opened.

Jay hastily turned around and possessively stepped in front of Erin, covering her raised skirt with his own body, "Jesus, Will! Shit! Haven't you ever heard of knocking? Fuck!" This was the fastest her cheeks have ever turned red. She quickly tugged her skirt down and thanked every deity known to man that her underwear were in place and his brother didn't actually catch her nude from the waist down. He saw her legs and thighs –she could live with that. While standing behind her boyfriend, she took the opportunity to tug her skirt back down and adjust the waistband of her leather skirt.

"I didn't realize I had to knock on the door of a supply closet," Will's arms were crossed and he looked every bit the surprised father, "Hi Erin."

"Hi Will," Erin buried her face against her boyfriend's back, hiding her laughter and embarrassment at the thought of almost being caught.

Will looked back at his brother, masking the annoyed look on his face before turning around, "Let's go Jay. Everyone has been looking for you! You have to be back on stage in," he paused to glance at his watch, "one minute!"

When Will was a few feet away, continuously shouting words to rush his brother along, Jay remained in the closet, smirking. He took the hand of his girlfriend and brushed his lips along her knuckles, "Wait for me after the show."

She rolled her eyes jokingly, "And where else would I go?"

Her question is left unanswered when Will returns to physically collect his brother by gripping his arm and practically yanking him in the direction of the stage. Erin remained in the supply closet for a few extra minutes, collecting her breath and nervously adjusting and readjusting her outfit. The last thing she needs is a before and after photo taken of her, depicting the savage and ravishing fuck she just got backstage. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and stepped out of the supply closet, glancing to her left and right to ensure no one saw. She's good. She walks the few steps back towards the backstage room to see her guards inside, smiling she says, "I'm ready to return to my seat."

Even though they're always with her, they do manage to keep their distance to try and provide her with some form of privacy. Sometimes it works and it does actually feel like she isn't being followed and other times it backfires and it feels like she has a stalker or a peeping tom watching her. She takes another deep breath and before she ventures back into the main arena, Atwater gently grabs her arm and tugs her back, "Do you have any makeup to cover that up?"

He nods towards her collarbone. She blushes. She's embarrassed and right now she wishes the floor would open up and swallow her whole.

"I don't."

Crap. She forgot about that.

"Here," she hears the familiar voice of Burgess speak up from behind her guards; she glances around Atwater and sees the woman extending what appears to be a leather jacket –Jay's leather jacket to be more specific.

"Thanks."

"Don't worry about it," she grins, grabbing Erin's hand to tug her towards their seats, "I understand. I was a newlywed at one point and before that I was in that lustful stage of a relationship where we couldn't keep our hands off of each other."

With their hands intertwined, Kim and Erin proceeded towards their seats; the latter's guards sticking close by as the event's security moved the barricades to the side to allow them entrance into the front row specifically for family, friends and staff. At this point, two songs had gone by and while Erin would have chastised herself for missing her second favorite song on the album, she knew that she could get him to play it for her anytime she pleases.

And that thought does something to her.

It draws a genuine smile to her face as she zones out, thinking of all the good times she's had with him in the past. She actually starts to think about the endless amount of good times that still haven't happened yet. She's excited about the future.

And while Erin didn't typically post photos hinting towards her relationship –that was normally Jay's territory-, she was too happy in this moment not to. She was overwhelmed with joy, with love and emotion that was all a result of her relationship with him. She didn't sit down, even though she was physically exhausted; she remained standing with and between Natalie and Kim, rocking to the music. She pulled her cell out and held the camera up; the lens is focused on her as she takes probably the first selfie since her relationship started.

Without wasting another second, she posts it to all forms of social media with a vague yet also clear status written beneath it.

 _I'm wearing the smile he gave me._


	28. Only Mine

Erin sat, legs crossed and folded with files, folders and loose leaf sheets of paperwork spread out around her on the floor. She pressed out the creases in a few important documents as her eyes read the file she had opened on her laptop. Erin licked the tip of her finger and leafed through the current documents stacked in her hands, searching for a particular page, "Erin."

She looked up, "Hey, I'm sorry, did I wake you?"

His hair was mussed, messy and wild from the third round of sex they had last night and his eyes looked extremely tired; she knew he was exhausted, yet he stood in front of her, covering a yawn with the palm of his hand, "You didn't particularly wake me. It's not exactly what you're doing that woke me up; it's that you weren't there…in the bed…with me." He was bashful, appearing as if he has never told anyone that. And maybe he hadn't.

Erin rose to her feet and walked over into his waiting arms. She felt his lips brush across her forehead as she relaxed into his warm embrace, "It's almost seven in the morning and I kept trying to go back to sleep, but I couldn't, so I figured I could get some work done," he pulled her back and looked into her eyes as she continued, "and not to mention I have an endless stream of notifications. I had to turn off my alerts for anyone that I do not follow or friend on social media. I post one picture of _myself_ at _your_ concert and your fans go crazy, obsessive Single, White Female," his brow rises at her reference, "seriously, you haven't seen the movie?"

"I can't say that I have."

"We're watching that movie."

He chuckles, bringing one of his hands up to rub the sleep out of his eyes, "How long have you been awake?"

"That's not important."

"Erin…"

She glances over at the digital clock near the television, "…since five."

"Did I not tire you out enough yesterday?"

She smirked, "Oh trust me, you did, between hotel sex, closet sex and sex out in that Jacuzzi you tired me out plenty."

He pressed his lips against her temple gently, "So why are you up?"

"My stupid phone," she sighs, leaning her forehead against his chest, "the constant stream of notifications woke me up and after I put my phone on silent, I couldn't fall back asleep."

Jay brought her hand up to kiss lightly, peppering the smallest of kisses across each of her knuckles. Erin watched, brows raising after his lips ghost a final kiss against the palm of her hand. She took both of his hands in hers, bringing them towards her chest and resting them against her bosom. They're both tired; he more than her.

"Any specific comments that I need to respond to?"

It's become their thing. If she came across any horribly mean and deplorable comments, she would screenshot the post and send it to him. He would normally, more than likely, inevitably respond to the comment, tagging the original poster in his message to ensure they saw it and it would eventually get deleted by the initial poster or by her herself. Unfortunately, by the time it's officially deleted, it was already screenshot by thousands and reposted with varying point of views about the exchange of message. Fans of their relationship would think it's the sweetest thing ever, him defending her and not backing down no matter the gender, the age and the status of the person who initiated the insult while other people –who were against their relationship- would use it as another reason why they shouldn't be together; they can't take constructive criticism one person wrote beneath a photo he posted a while ago when they were waiting in line for go-karts. He captioned it _that smile_ ; it was such a simple statement, a small caption yet many people thought it gave them the green light to comment on his relationship and on his girlfriend.

"Not this time," Erin said with a smile, "but I will say, you have some very observant fans. I wore your jacket last night to cover up the hickey on my neck and they noticed it was yours. I don't know how, but they knew. Thousands of comments alone pointed it out. And some people even went above and beyond to screenshot my post and create a two-picture collage out of it and tag me in it. One side was my selfie and the other side would be a photo of you that paparazzi captured that showed you wearing the leather jacket I put on."

"Wow."

"You're telling me," she chuckled dryly, "my notifications have been shooting through the roof ever since I posted that damn picture. I would be surprised if the topic of your jacket wasn't trending on Twitter and wasn't talked about for at least ten minutes on celebrity news."

Jay laughed at that; a deep hearty laugh erupted that woke him up just enough so that he wasn't continually yawning every few minutes. Erin smiled, reaching up to pull her hair free of the elastic band that was holding it back only to redo her ponytail much tighter this time. He yawned again. Light bags were starting to form under his tired eyes. He hardly gets any sleep anymore.

"You should go back to bed." She turns to retake her seat on the floor but he grabs her arm to stop her, "I'm not tired," she says before he can even request she join him.

"How about I give it another shot and tire you out?" He waggled his brows suggestively.

"I cannot take another pounding," she asserted but moved in closer at the sign of a slight pout forming along his face, "but maybe we can compromise?"

"I'm listening…"

"Go for a jog with me," Erin told him, "then we'll come back here and shower together in that ridiculously large tub of yours and then you can tire me out for as long and as hard as you see necessary to ensure I get at least another five hours of sleep."

Jay wasn't quite following. He blamed it on his lack of sleep. From the concert venue they didn't get back to the suite until a little after two in the morning since they all decided to enjoy Miami's nightlife and venture out onto the club scene.

"Jog, shower and then sex," Erin deadpanned

Jay visibly relaxed, all the tension and exhaustion draining out of his shoulders, "How far?"

"Pardon?"

"How far are you trying to jog?"

She taps her chin in thought, "…at least two miles."

"Erin…"

"Come on; it's no fun if I have to do it alone."

"What if I pull an important muscle, you know, a muscle that is useful for the both of us," he waggled his brows beguilingly, "you gonna massage it for me?"

Erin snorted in what one could deem an unladylike manner before smothering her laugh behind her hand. Her shoulders bounced with each chuckle that emitted from her body. She slapped his chest lightly and maneuvered around him, "Alright Romeo, if you pull _that_ muscle which I highly doubt you will, I'll massage it for you. Now come on, let's go get changed."

It took approximately ten minutes to wash their face, brush their teeth and throw on workout clothes and sneakers before they were walking out of the door. Erin held her earphones in her hand and her phone in the other as Jay followed closely behind her, "Alright, so are your guys jogging with us?"

"Nah," she shakes her head, "they'll follow in the rental truck."

He followed behind her in the elevator –her guards squeezing in behind them, "So, how does that work? We run on the sidewalk as this suspicious black truck trails us slowly from behind."

"Exactly," she grabs his hand and pulls him out of the elevator when they reach the lobby.

The Miami heat was scorching; she'll have to make sure they stop for some water so they don't pass out from dehydration. While they're outside of the hotel, stretching their arms and legs to ensure they didn't cramp or pull a muscle, the valet disappears to retrieve the black truck her guards rented. Erin lifts her leg and grips her ankle, stretching her limb back, "I figured we can start down this block," she nods towards it, "and then circle around and maybe even after a mile or two we can stop for water to make sure we don't cramp up or pass out because of dehydration," Erin starts doing side torso twist. She lifts her arms above her head and leans to the left and then the right at the waist, "I'm starving too, but we can't eat until after we run." And once it appears two of her guards hopping inside with Roman and Dawson remaining outside to jog behind them, the couple sets off, beginning their run at a slow and leisurely pace.

"I thought," Jay managed to keep Erin's tempo and speed, "all of your guards were following in the truck, not running along with us." Sometimes he just wanted for them to be alone.

She rarely goes jogging; she hardly exercises outside in the fresh air. It's usually in a gym filled with over-muscular men who definitely could use a few days off from exercising and women who come for varying reasons –some to actually lose weight and others to seek an in-shape and physically fit man. In a gym, she worked out with other like-minded people. On the street jogging, she was forced to weave in and out of the crowds as she moved along the sidewalk. One guard jogged in front of them and the other jogged behind them, waving their arms and shouting warnings to individuals who even thought about approaching the first daughter.

Their leisure pace is soundless as the city traffic and movement on the crowded streets and sidewalks mask the sound of their sneakers hitting against the concrete. In her peripheral, she notices the slow movement of their rental truck and anytime they approached a stop sign or a traffic light turned red, she was forced to jog in place, waiting impatiently for the light to turn. Once it does and they have the permission from the walk sign to cross the street, the couple sets off. Neither talks as they focus on breathing through their mouth rather than their nose. They run over two miles, more close to three before stopping, purchasing a bottle of water to share and stretching once again to rework their muscles. Erin jogs in place, not wanting her body to tire out and relax as she waits for Jay to take a sip, "Don't drink too much water or you'll cramp. One or two swallows of water is fine until we get back."

Jay screwed the cap back onto the water bottle before leaning forward and giving her a sweaty kiss, "Gross," she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

"You're wiping away my kisses now?"

She chuckles, "You can have all of the kisses you want once we're clean."

"How about we make a bet?"

Erin takes the bottle from him and swallows down two small sips, "I'm listening."

"Let's race," he's looking back in the direction they've just come from, raising his hand to block the sun from his eyes, "and of course we'll make a wager."

"I'm listening…"

"If I win, we spend the next 24 hours how I want to spend it. And if you win, we spend the next 24 hours how you want to spend it."

Flashes of how the day can be spent if she comes out victorious goes through her mind. It's Saturday; she leaves tomorrow and if she comes out as the winner, she'll make sure it's one of the most memorable Saturdays they've ever spent together. She sticks her hand out after rubbing the sweat on her palm against the fabric of her navy blue jogging suit, "You have yourself a deal." She waits, watching as what she assumes to be flashes of his own perfect Saturday flash through his mind before he sticks out his own hand.

"We start on the count of three," they line up after his words, "we go on three."

It's Dawson who counts for them.

It's Roman who takes the water bottle from her hands to make sure there is nothing slowing her down. It's obvious who they're rooting for.

And when three is shouted and the couple takes off, Dawson and Roman easily keep up with them from behind. The rental truck leads the way and fortunately makes every green light.

Her calves soon start to feel the strain that came from increasing her light jog into a full on sprint. It's obvious she's gotten lazy in her workout regimen, choosing to sleep in on most of her days off than venture out to the gym. It's showing. She forgets to breathe through her mouth; it's just easier to inhale and exhale through her nose. She loses speed. Her calves are burning. She's sweating in the crevices of her body that she's trying to tone up.

She's not used to running; she's used to jogging. There's a difference. He's obviously a runner, showing off to turn and face her and run backwards as people move out of his way. He sends her a wink before turning forward and increasing his pace, taking off until he's out of her line of sight and closing in on the last few stretches that marked their race.

He won.

And the second she came to a stop in front of the hotel, he's pulling her into his sweaty embrace, pressing his lips against hers and smiling proudly, "I'm collecting my prize," he mumbles against her lips and her guards move in to surround them, turning their backs and circling their bodies to ensure they got the privacy they deserve, "Before we get that shower of ours, I'm going to need you to push your morning flight back a couple of hours. I want to make sure I get my full 24 hours and I have a radio interview tomorrow morning so I won't be able to give you a proper goodbye unless you do."

And she did. She pushed her nine am flight back to five in the afternoon.

-x-

With his head between her legs, eyes glancing up to take in the look of pleasure on her face, she whined, whimpered and cried out. Working her up with his mouth and his hand had her all riled up, approaching an edge that she'll fall over inevitably. She was writhing beneath him; her breathing shallow, her chest rising up and down at a frantic pace and her pulse speeding up. Her hips started rolling into his mouth of their own volition; she had absolutely no control. None. She reached down, fingers tangling themselves in his brunette hair and yanked, trying to pull his mouth away. It was becoming unbearable, but instead of moving with the tug of each pull she gave, he used one hand to hold her stomach down and the other to throw her leg around his shoulder. He increased the speed and friction of his mouth against her and smiled in her warmth as her overwhelming cry rips through the suite.

He blinked at her. His eyes were darkened by lust; both of his orbs preying and mischievous. His hair was tousled from her fingers, his lips glistened with the evidence of her arousal and it did something to her. Seeing that did something to her internally. She yanked him up and attacked his lips with her own. As his mouth moved against her lips, Jay's hand made its way up her body and along her arm before he linked their fingers together on the pillow beside her head.

"I love you," she whispered against his glistening lips.

"I love you too."

Jay rolled over and flopped down onto the bed beside her. He was exhausted; between running, showering and the two rounds of sex, he didn't see himself leaving the bed anytime soon.

"I need to let you win more often," Erin mumbled, snuggling deeper into the warmth of his hotel bed and pulling Jay's arm tighter around her.

"You didn't let me win," Jay whispered into her hair, subconsciously tightening his grip on her.

"I did," she lied boldly, chuckling into his neck, "I did."

Jay objected, "Nope! You could barely breathe. Your heart was racing! I couldn't even enjoy the pleasure of shower sex with you because you needed to _collect yourself_."

"Don't belabor the point counselor," Erin told him gently.

And he smiled the moment she placed a kiss against the space where she felt his heart beating, "Erin, I would hate to use your own career against you, but you are under oath."

"I don't recall swearing to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth."

Halstead smirked at her response, finding himself turned on and in need of more of her lawyer talk. He needed to see her in action in court. Jay leaned in and brushed his lips across hers, "It goes without saying when you're in a relationship," she laid wrapped in one of his arms, her face against his bare chest as he brought his other hand up to her, letting her silky strands slip through his fingers, "remember," his voice lowered seductively, "we promised honesty."

He knew he had her there.

And when she nodded, leaning in to seal the deal of the promise they made to each other those months ago with a promising kiss. His lips didn't move until she whispered, "I didn't let you win," her left hand played with the hair at the nape of his neck just as his mouth started to move fervently against hers, "I actually," she tried to pull away to continue talking, but the hold his hand had on the back of her head prevented it.

He kissed her harder. He kissed her rougher. He kissed her with a burning passion as he tugged her naked body onto his. The warmth of her silky smooth skin against his was heaven. His own warm body resting beneath hers as her finger traces the outline of his tattoo inked into his left pec, "You know," she starts talking the second her eyes zero in on a scar that she's never noticed, "I just noticed that scar above your eyebrow. How'd you get it?"

She lowers her chin to rest on his muscular chest. His hand continues to run through her hair and while his ears picked up on her question, his eyes were focused in on her dirty blonde hair as it fell through his fingers, "I was in a motorcycle accident when I was 19."

In the blink of an eye, she leans forward to brush her lips across the faint scar an inch above his eyebrow. Then she lowers her head back down to rest upon his chest.

"I got a scar on my knee. I fell off my bike when I was eight."

Jay smirked, "We both have bike injuries."

"Yeah, well mine was caused because my dad took the training wheels off my bike before I was ready," she chuckled and he could feel the vibration of her laughter on his chest.

"Too different type of bike accidents," he whispered, continually running his hand through her hair while the other held her bare waist, "but bike accidents nonetheless."

"Do you have any more scars?"

"…maybe one or two, but you'll have to find them."

"Is that a challenge?" She lifted her head up interested in where this conversation was heading.

"…only if you're up for it."

Erin licked her bottom lip, a wide-spread grin stretching across her face as she began peppering kisses down his chest, "Oh, I'm up for it." And just as she pressed a kiss against his member, his phone rang, blaring out a new ringtone that is obnoxiously loud and ear-shattering.

"Talk about a mood killer," her head fell forward, flopping down restlessly against his upper, inner thigh, "Are you going to answer it?"

"Nope," Jay lifted his hands, intertwined his fingers and brought it to rest behind his head, "Now where were we?" She didn't even lift her head. She didn't resume.

"Can you at least put it on silent? That sound! Why change your ringtone?"

"I didn't." And this causes her to lift her head. He continued his explanation, "For that specific person, the tone is different. That way I know whenever he's calling."

"He?"

He shrugs, "My father."

"Your dad."

Now this is definitely a mood killer.

She crawled up his body, hands resting on the mattress on either side of him, her hair curtaining around their faces as she stares down at him, "You don't really mention your dad."

"Because he's not worth mentioning," he sighs, rolling his eyes when his phone starts ringing again, "now can we get back to what we were doing."

"No, no," she swats his hand away the second it lifts to run through her hair, "how come you don't mention him? I feel like I mention my parents all the time. And now that I think about it, you don't talk about yours at all. When can I meet him?"

"If I had the choice, then never."

"Jay…"

"It's a bad idea. Now let's just drop it."

The mood is killed.

Erin lowers her face, bringing it even closer to his and she remains hovering above him. Her left hand pressed resting on the portion of the mattress beside his head and her right resting on the opposite portion on the other side of his head. She sighed. She was giving in. She was disappointed about it though.

"Okay…"

His hands circle around her ass, grasping both cheeks to press her core against his causing both of them to emit a moan. Her head falls forward, forehead resting upon forehead.

"You are insatiable," she groans the second he starts rubbing his member against her core.

The mood is back.

"I'm always insatiable when it comes to you," his words come out choked; he's getting just as worked up as she is, "and besides, you leave tomorrow. I need to get my fix."

She stops. The mood is gone once again the second she swats his hand away to pull herself from on top of him. He's confused. Did he say something wrong?

"Did I say something wrong?"

"The fact that you even had to ask that concerns me," she gets out of bed –naked- and he's forced to fight against his growing bulge by thinking of naked old people, animals and every other thing that will have the opposite effect on him that Erin's nude form seemed to have.

He's utterly confused. "What did I say?"

"You need to get your fix," she quoted, crossing her arms over her bare chest, "Am I just sex to you? Are you just with me for the sex, Jay?"

He _really_ needed her to put some clothes on or to get back in the bed with him.

"Of course not, Erin, now come back into the bed."

"Jay…"

"Come back to bed. I'm not using you for sex."

"Jay."

"Get your sexy ass over here," he smirked the second her eyes rolled playfully. She heeded his demand, crawling back onto the bed and over to him, throwing one leg over his waist to sit atop of his lower stomach, "That's much better," his hands sat upon her waist, "now you're back where you belong."

Erin leaned forward, resting her face back against his bare, sculpted chest. Her hand brushes across it, sliding forward to pinch his nipple, "Ouch!"

She kissed the sting away, peppering the smallest of kisses against the red flesh she had pinched, "That was for referring to sex with me as a fix."

"Yes ma'am."

"I mean it."

"Good."

Jay brought his hands back to rest upon her lower ass, sliding her down to press himself against her core. He's relentless. He's insatiable. And by the sound of the moan that comes from her mouth, it seems she is too.

But, it also seems like the mood is destined to be killed. His phone rings; he doesn't answer it. It wasn't his dad this time though; he could tell by the ringtone. Jay tries to bring the mood back, but it rings again. He doesn't answer. Instead he focuses on the feeling of her mouth wrapped around him; his hands in her hair, holding her down and trying to remind himself to be gentle. She doesn't need help. She's done this for him many times. He lays back, relaxes and allows her to work him up, work him closer and closer to an edge that may possibly take him out of this world. It may kill him. With how fast his heart is racing, with how much sweat is accumulating on his body, with how fast her mouth is working him –up and down- and with the incessant blaring of his cell phone on the nightstand beside him is going to send him to an early grave.

"Oh for the love of," she pulls her mouth off of him to shout, "answer it."

He doesn't bother to argue. He answers it and she resumes her earlier action, working her mouth up and down as he struggles to focus on what his brother was saying. It was something along the lines of an awards show. He heard bits and pieces, certain words stuck out to him: nominations, two, AMAs, November and RSVP. Jay couldn't focus with the drag of her lips, the swirl of her tongue on his tip and the feel of him fully engorged in her mouth.

"Text it to me," Jay hung up; he didn't even know if his brother heard him.

Halstead tossed his phone beside him and intertwined his fingers through the strands of her hair, tugging and gripping as she worked him up into a release, a release that she slowly worked and dragged him through, slurping up every drop of his discharge before drawing her mouth away with a pop of her lips. She swallowed and it nearly drove him insane.

"Erin." He reached for her, dragging her up to him to seal their love with a gentle kiss.

She cuddled in his arms, burying her face in the crook of his neck, "Who called you?" Her face was flushed; she was out of breath again. He could feel her heart practically about to beat out of her chest, "My annoying brother who has horrible timing."

"What did he want?"

"The AMAs is the third week of November," he informs, rolling over onto his side to face her; she adjusts herself accordingly, head no longer on his shoulder but now resting against her closed fist as her elbow is cushioned by the pillow it rests on, "and Will forgot to tell us that he RSVP'd for the band to go about a month ago."

It all comes back to him. His subconscious was paying more attention to Will's words than he originally thought.

"You don't sound too excited," she's tracing nonexistent patterns along his chest.

"I'm not," his body position matches hers with how his jaw rests against his closed fist as he lays on his side, "We were nominated for two awards this year: Tour of the Year award and the Favorite Artist award for the Alternative Rock category."

"JAY!" She sits up quicker than the speed of light, "that's amazing! Congratulations! When did you find out? Why didn't you tell me? Why don't you seem excited about this?"

"I'm honored; don't get me wrong, I just hate award shows. It's boring. Trust me, it's not all it's cracked up to be. To sit there for over an hour is tiring and Will didn't even run it by us, he just RSVP'd anyway."

"It won't be that bad. And I'll be watching the entire thing."

"Of course you'll be watching," he grabs her hand and brings it up to his mouth, running his lips along her knuckles, "you're going to be my date. The third Sunday of November, AMA awards, the Microsoft Theater in Los Angeles, California. Add it to your calendar."

"Since Will already RSVP'd, did he know to request a plus one for you?"

Jay shrugs; the thought never crossed his mind. He was going to show up with her on his arm and go from there. If she had to take someone else's seat then so be it. She could have his and he could stand in the aisle.

"Jay, where do you expect me to sit?"

"You could have my seat or one of the guy's seats?"

"I can't do that."

"Look," he sits up, "I'll just tell Will to call whoever needs to be called to RSVP you as my date. I'm not going if you're not by my side. They'll do their jobs and figure it out. And besides, you're _you_ , they can't turn you down!"

This is how Jay chose to spend his victory day –in the bed with his girlfriend, ordering room service when they got hungry, watching television and making out in between. It was the perfect day yet the looming torment hovered above them, knowing that tomorrow, less than 24 hours away, they'll have to say bye once again.

-x-

In a few hours, they'll have to say goodbye again. They had less than four hours left before she had to go to the airport. He had only a few hours remaining with his girlfriend yet he wasn't currently, physically _with_ his girlfriend. She leaves Miami in the afternoon after pushing her morning flight back a few hours to prolong her time in Florida. He doesn't want to say goodbye for he is not looking forward to the time and distance that'll be between them.

His band goes to Nashville, Tennessee next. And after that is Charleston, West Virginia. Then, he'll be in Baltimore, Maryland sometime in mid-October. It's the last week of August, only a few days until the start of September. He has to go _over a month_ until he can physically touch her again. He'll have to be celibate; he'll have to fight temptation and the allure of the thousands of women that throw themselves at him.

Jay knows himself; he doesn't think he can do it. He'll have to figure out a way to pay her a visit one weekend just to get his fix of her. Gosh, that sounds so unromantic. It sounds like he's using her for sex, but that's the farthest thing from the truth. At least he hopes so. He's not that great at examining his emotions. He's definitely not great at committed relationships, yet he found himself in a long distance one.

The radio interview had ended an hour ago and now he stood in the living room of his hotel suite, reading a scribbled note left by his girlfriend. She ran to get coffee. It's almost noon. His time with her is ticking. He crumbled the note in his hand and tosses it over towards the nearest trashcan; he misses it completely. It's probably for the best that his ten year old dream of becoming a basketball player never panned out considering his present ability at getting a balled up piece of paper into a bin only a few feet away.

"I have a great idea!" he could have sworn he was alone; the voice of the band's keyboard player had caught him off guard and startled him, which was clearly obvious with how his body jumped and jerked at the sound of Rixton's voice filling his suite, "We leave tonight for Nashville. Let's see how many bars we can hit before Will and Natalie send out a search team and prep their nightly lectures. We can even make things interesting and bet how many bars we'll visit."

Jay didn't turn around to face him when he replied, "I'll have to pass."

"We're in Miami. We can't come to Miami and not go barhopping."

Jay turns to face him, "Erin leaves today."

That's all he needs to say because Rixton picks up on the implication. And instead of accepting his answer and his explanation, he tucks his hands in the front of his jeans pockets, starts walking closer to Jay with his head tilted and an unreadable expression on his face, "What happened to you?" the expression is confusion mixed with some sort of disappointment, "What happened to the guy that flirted with everything in a skirt? What happened to my bandmate that brought at least two girls to the awards, one on both arms?"

Jay swallows hard, "He grew up."

And that's probably the most honest he has ever been. Yet, Kenny pressed on as if he hadn't heard.

"I knew this girl would be nothing but trouble," Kenny tore his hands out of his pockets, "I could smell it on her from the moment I met her," the two of them stepped towards each other, "I tried to warn you, but no, you get turned into some lovesick, pathetic puppy for a piece of ass! She must be good in bed, that's the only way to explain how you-"

Jay's hand crashed into Rixton's face, hard. Harder than the last time.

"Don't you _ever_ talk about her like that again! Do you understand me Kenny?"

Halstead had noticed Kenny's less than cordial greeting when he and Erin had first met. He picked up on the slick comments out of the keyboard player's mouth; he tried to overlook the side-eyes and glares he shot his girlfriend's way. And he even saw how Rixton regularly talked about Erin as if he didn't know how much she meant to Jay. Halstead said nothing. He wrote it off to a phase, to heartbreak and a temporary stage of the healing process. Not anymore.

"I didn't say anything that wasn't true! You're screwing her, aren't you?"

Jay punched him again, blood lining the corner of Kenny's mouth after the second hit. The keyboard player never swung back; he never even shielded his face. He took the hits.

"Just because your girl left you," Jay growled, keeping his voice as leveled as possible, "doesn't mean that every woman will leave!"

This time Kenny swung at him and connected his fist against Jay's jaw; it'll bruise later. The two men were raging. Jay was pacing like a caged animal wanting desperately to pounce on his prey. His fists were clenched at his side and he knew he couldn't hit Rixton again. Two hits the keyboard player could let slide, but another…he wouldn't. A third, they'll be fighting, tumbling, and knocking things over in a hotel room that he has booked for a few more hours. Jay had to walk away and after grabbing his keys and heading towards the door, he planned to do just that until Rixton's words echoed down the hallway, "You're a fucking asshole, you know that?" he hears Kenny call out, "You don't think people can see through this charade of yours. I should be impressed because it's working! You're trying to turn your image around and the first daughter is the perfect way to do that. Go big or go home, right?"

Jay stops at the elevator, "I'm not with Erin for her status, her money or her reputation."

He could hear the footfalls of Rixton as he approaches him from behind, "That doesn't matter," his friend's words are cautious as he prepares himself for possibly being hit again, "you both come from two completely different worlds; she's from a life of privilege and prestige and you come from a life that involves having copious amounts of sex with women who are way more in your league than she is. Her father is the sitting president and yours is an angry drunk. Her dad doesn't even like you, Jay! How is that going to work out?"

"I don't know," Jay sighs, feeling himself finally calm down, "but I do know that I love her."

Rixton tried his hardest to keep his hands off of Halstead, but at his admittance, he couldn't fight the urge to yank his friend around to face him, "You _fell in love_ with her? That's just fucking romantic now, isn't it?"

"Don't start."

It was when he looked at Kenny this time that he saw the damage two punches could cause. There is a light bruise starting to tint the skin beneath his eye and there's another bruise –a darker one- shading the side of his mouth. A slight, small cut appeared in the corner of his mouth. Jay hit harder than he expected and just opening his mouth again, he sensed Rixton did too. From the one hit Kenny applied to his jaw, he felt the soreness, the stiff muscle as he rubbed his hand along his jawline. Rixton smirked at this discomfort on his bandmate's face, "Serves you right for hitting me," he struggled to mask his own pain, "but as your friend, the guy who has been with you through almost everything, I reserve the right to speak my mind and tell you when I think you're making a huge mistake," the elevator doors opened and Rixton practically shoved Jay into them to ensure no one in the hallway heard; he waited for the doors to close before picking up where he left off, "You obviously know I'm not too happy that you two made up and got back together. Besides dating her in the first place, I think that's your second greatest mistake you've made. At this rate, you'll be three for three if you decide to ever propose or God forbid, knock her up," Jay reached over him to press the button to the lobby, "but, fortunately, this can actually work for our bad boy reputation. Just think of the uproar it'll be if you break her heart, just think of everyone who will know your name. You'll be the Lewinsky in this case."

Jay squints, "That's a horrible analogy. It doesn't even apply."

"I mean in terms of people knowing your name and hating you for your role in this mess."

Halstead doesn't even know why he's entertaining this. Maybe it's because he's stuck in an elevator with him and he really doesn't want to fight with Rixton in an elevator let alone in public. He could only imagine the headlines that'll come from that. He could only picture Will's response to it, a combination of shouting and pulling his hair out. Poor Natalie will have to do double work in calming him down and doing damage control with the press.

"I don't want to keep fighting with you over this," the doors opened and Rixton followed Jay out into the lobby, "and I really don't want to keep getting hit over this," Kenny attempted humor –it didn't work, "but I'm worried. As your friend, I'm concerned and I have every right to be. You two met in April, started dating in May and already in love by August."

"It's practically September," Jay remarks, approaching the valet. He wanted his rental car; he needed to go for a drive to clear his mind.

"My point still applies," he waited for a response from Jay as he waited for his car to be brought around; when no response came, he continued, "You are really making a huge fucking mistake and I can't just sit back and allow you to make it. It's like sitting back and watching you drive off knowing that you're way pass the legal limit for intoxication."

Jay rolls his eyes, "You really need to work on your analogies. You're comparing apples to oranges," his car came to a stop in front of him and he was gratefully handed his keys.

Halstead jogged over to the driver's side and Rixton followed, uttering warnings and cautions behind him. He tugged on his friend's shoulder, pulling him to turn around to give him one final thought to consider, "Have you ever wondered that you're only in love with her or want to be with her because she represents a woman that no one can get? A trophy of some sort. She's untouchable and incorruptible yet you're doing both. You've already touched her and now you're probably slowly corrupting her and once that's done then you'll grow tired and throw her out like yesterday's garbage. Have you ever thought about why you're in love with her? Maybe it's the thrill of the fact that it could be argued that there's a fine line between forbidden and unforbidden where your relationship is concerned and that provides a fun aspect to it or maybe it's the fact that everyone says you shouldn't be together –me, her dad, your fans, the media, entertainment news- and you know, a part of being a bad boy is doing what people tell you not to do. Have you ever thought that you might have told her you love her to keep her?"

Jay said nothing in response. He merely hopped into his car and drove off, only kept company by his racing thoughts repeating the words that Rixton last spoke.

For a guy with serious commitment issues who thought he was making strong progress in working through them, he definitely didn't need the words that came from a trusted friend.

He never considered any of that. Shit. The thought that it could be true sends his mind spiraling and his heart racing. Maybe that's why when she's away the temptation to seek other women is stronger. He's set to self-destruct. He's not meant for committed relationships. Without hard work, he'll be destined to ruin every good thing about his life.

Jay didn't know where he was going. All he knew is he was going pretty fast. He moved the car effortlessly through the city traffic, speeding up when lights turn yellow and rolling through signs that specifically tell him to stop. It wasn't the safest drive, but he was alone. He was stuck with his thoughts. He didn't want to break her heart. And he thought he knew all the reasons he loved her –her smile, her laugh, her walk, her talk, her kisses, her hugs, her dimples, her heart, her innocence, her selflessness, her intelligence, definitely her intelligence and how she can shut the most ignorant person down with her quick-wit and her sharp-tongue, her sense of humor, her compassion, her generosity, her confidence, her courage, her strength, her similarities to him, her differences to him, the fact that she challenges him, she inspires him, she compliments him, the way she makes him feel about himself, the way she runs her fingers through her hair when she's nervous, the fact that she always sits on the floor when she's doing work even when there are comfortable seats all around the room, the way that she trusts him with Nadia, the fact that she's not afraid or self-conscious about her love for food, the way she feels comfortable enough to be vulnerable in front of him, the fact that she's willing to fly out just to be a supportive girlfriend and cheer him on from the front row, the way she usually gives in when his risk-taking side comes out, the fact that she's willing to take a chance and trust a known bad boy with commitment issues with her heart. He didn't deserve her. So what they've been dating for four months? If he loves her, he loves her. It doesn't matter how long it takes him to get there. That entire list he just listed proves just how much he loves and cherishes her. Rixton didn't cause for him to question his love for her, instead, it did the opposite. What could she possibly see in him? How could she love a man like him? With his reputation?

Jay pulled over to the side of the road, hitting his hazard lights as he connects his phone to Bluetooth and calls Erin. After three rings, she picks up, "Hello," her voice is as graceful as ever.

"Hi Er, listen I know you have to leave soon," his voice sounds out of breath even though he didn't exert himself, "but, are you back at the hotel yet? Do you mind…if I come over? Do you have enough time? I really need to see you."

"What's wrong?" She immediately picked up on the waver in his voice.

He thought about it. It was close to one in the afternoon. She was probably busy.

"Nothing," he backtracks. She has to leave.

"Jay, something is wrong. Come over," the tone of her voice doesn't leave any room for argument, "This is your hotel suite anyway; you don't need permission."

Twenty-five minutes later and he's parked outside of the hotel handing the keys back to the valet. He goes inside and somehow his body moves him even though his thoughts are elsewhere. He nods as he moves through her secret service and grins when Atwater opens the door, closing it after he steps inside. When he heard the light pitter pattering of feet, he waited. Knowing her secret service guards were outside, protecting her from harm's way made him smile. No one would be disturbing them. When her feet came to a stop, he saw her; she had bed hair and was dressed in one of his shirts. She was using it as pajamas. She didn't look like she was leaving soon. She looked like she was in no rush.

"Hi."

She grins, "Hi." Those dimples he loved so much made a welcomed appearance.

"Erin," he stepped immediately into her open and waiting arms, loving the way she held him tight, and cradling the back of his head as he buried his face in the crook of her neck, "It's after one. You have a flight to catch soon."

"My flight doesn't leave until five. As long as I'm out of here by three, I'll be fine. Now, Jay, what happened, is everything okay?" she coaxed, drawing his face to meet hers.

And she immediately understood after he muttered one word, "Rixton."

Erin pulled away, carefully scanning his face with her eyes, "What happened?" Her eyes drift down, scanning his lightly bruised jawline before falling towards his bruised knuckles.

"Don't worry," he stretched out the ache in his hand, "He looks worse than me."

"Knowing my boyfriend got into a fight with one of his closest friends concerns me. What was this fight about exactly?" She kind of had a feeling but she wanted to hear it from him. Assumptions do not win cases; a collection of evidence does.

"You," he sighed.

Erin bit her lip, observing him with hooded eyes, "What about me?"

He didn't give her a verbal answer, instead he moved in, pressing and sealing his lips against hers. When the shock wore off, she kissed him back, moving her own lips just as aggressively against his as he moves his just the same against hers. His calloused hand, bruised at the knuckles intertwine itself in her hair as he cradles the back of her head, holding her face against his with every fiber of his being. He didn't ask to kiss her. He didn't look into her eyes to make sure it was okay, but she never pushed him away, she never shook her head or gave any sign or indication that she didn't want to kiss him. He was hurting. And in Jay's mind the only way he can confess how he feels to her is through sex.

When they pulled apart, it was only to remove the layers that still separated them. Erin made easy work in getting him out of his shirt and was already moving to his jeans. She knew there was something bothering him and when he was ready, he'll tell her. And he knew that Rixton was somewhat right; they're too different. The question should have never been whether or not his love for her was real, it should have been whether her love for him was real? He's everything her dad didn't approve of in one person –in one man. She practically admitted that she went through a rebellious streak. What if it came back? What if she's dating him to prove something to her father? His stupid friend, his stupid commitment issues and his stupid thoughts would not let him be happy; they would not let him live in the moment. This is exactly why he never got attached. This is why he didn't do relationships. This is why he buries his emotions, moves from female to female and ignores the thoughts and opinions of everyone around him.

He lets her in and now he can barely recognize himself.

He needed this. He needed the distraction. He needed to live in the moment. They weren't destined for forever, but they are destined for right now.

At some point they find themselves in the kitchen of his suite. He's panting because he can hardly breathe with how much they're kissing, nipping and biting at each other's skin.

"This won't be gentle," he warned, ripping her shirt open.

He felt she deserved a warning; she needed a chance to tell him that she changed her mind that she didn't want this, but it never came. His shirt that she wore fell to the ground and he used the opportunity to turn her around, to grip the back of her neck and bend her forward. Her chest rested against the cold granite of the kitchen counter and while he could have been gentler in pushing her over, his body refused to try. And she didn't slap him for it so he couldn't have hurt her too bad. He wanted to bury himself completely inside of her over and over again until she screamed his name. Fuck the neighbors, his bandmates –who all had a key to his suite-, her guards –who also had a key and may just so happen to come running in at the sound of her screaming. Fuck all of them right now.

"I just need you in me. _Now_ Jay!"

It was an order, not a request; one that he had every intention on following. Jay reared back, allowing her to reach behind her and guide him, before thrusting forward and taking her hard.

"Jay!" She cried out his name when he thrust fully inside of her in one motion. Erin was filled completely. And that feeling, this sense of completion was something she had never felt before. It still amazes her to this day that something this good is possible.

He was pounding in and out of her, "I love you, Erin. God, I love you so much."

Erin's heart clenched at his words. It was all just so much. His words, how his body thrust into hers, all of it was just so overwhelming. Her chest moved up and down the countertop with each pound; her flesh turning pink from the friction, her ass is shaded red from the constant, steady and hard slap of his hand and the feel of his body hammering against hers. She had nothing to grab onto. She had nothing to bite. She screamed. Loud. A piercing cry filled his entire suite. It was guttural, tortured and earsplitting and she knew, just knew her guys had to hear it. And she didn't care. She honestly, truly didn't care at all. Not with her boyfriend behind her, doing wicked things with each thrust, with each slap of one hand and with the fingers of another.

He said something to her. He said he loved her. In the middle of his kitchen in a suite located in the center of Miami Beach, he declared his love to her. At this rate, by next year, he'll have declared his love to her in almost every state in the continental United States. Her fingers attempted to dig into the granite of the counter, but there was no such luck. He said he loved her. And the words never got old. Each time he said it, it felt like the first time. She needed to say it back.

"I love," she struggled to say, the feeling was just so overpowering, "I love you too." It was the first time she said anything coherently since he entered her. She tried to say something else but her words were jumbled; it came out in one swoop of the tail at a pitch that ensured everyone along Miami Beach heard that the lead singer of District 21 was fucking the president's daughter.

And her words –her jumbled words- became the final straw for him. He increased the pace which sent him and Erin falling into overwhelming, powerful, immense, soul-wrenching release. One in which he slowly moved in and out of her, carrying her through every twitch, tremor, shudder and spasm of her body, "You are mine. Only mine. Always. Do you hear me, Erin?" Each word and almost every syllable was accompanied by a deep thrust. He was feeling possessive. He couldn't imagine anyone else having the luxury of being inside of her, of making her scream, of bringing her to release.

"You are mine too Jay, only mine." And her own possessiveness caught him off guard, but he found himself nodding, giving in to a demand he wasn't sure he would follow in the future.

He'll break her heart or she'll break his heart.

That'll be how it inevitably ends.

Jay pulled himself out and took in the aftermath. He was now limp, his member dangling as his hands rubbed over her red flesh. He turned her around and now her back laid against the counter, "Hi," she grinned, but he couldn't find it in himself to give her a matching smile.

So, he faked one.

"Hi."

And she saw through it but said nothing. He appreciated it.

"You know I love you, right?"

Just the words he needed to hear. Jay nodded, bending down to rest his forehead against hers, "I love you more." He kissed her forehead, then her cheeks, and the corners of her mouth and her lips until it pulled a smile onto her face. She was distracted. They were both distracted until they heard a loud banging on the door, with the voice of Atwater who gave a thirty minute warning -she had to leave for the airport in thirty minutes.

And in that span of time, they managed to shower –and keep their hands to themselves- and finish packing, before loading the car and heading off to the airport. It may have taken them a little more than thirty minutes –but they will still reach the airport by three o'clock.

He wanted to ride with her to the airport. He'll just take a taxi back. He needed as much time with her as possible. And even though he needs to be with her, the ride was filled with silence, no conversation to fill the grand space, no declarations of love, no kind words and meaningful promises, however there were some awkward glances sent their way by her guards who definitely heard everything.

Jay didn't care. And by the look on Erin's face, she didn't care either.

Her hand remained wrapped around Jay's and she couldn't find the strength to let it go. And every second their eyes met during the ride to the airport, both of their hearts cracked a little more because he didn't want her to leave and she didn't want to say goodbye.

And while two of the guards turned the rental car back in, leaving him with Erin and two of her other guards, he couldn't fight the urge to kiss her. Pulling her into his arms with more strength than was necessary, he found solace and peace in her soft lips. The two guards –Dawson and Sorensen- who remained with them, surrounded them with the best their bodies could manage, shielding her from anyone who may recognize them and want to sneak a photo.

"I'll see you in October," he whispered just as their kiss ended.

Erin nodded slowly, and hesitantly pulled away. After kissing her lips one last time, swiping away a loose tear from her cheek with the pad of his thumb, she walked away. Her guards following closely behind as they walked towards security. She continued to walk away, never looking back, not wanting Jay to see the tears fall from her eyes.

And watching her walk away, knowing that she was crying and there was nothing he could do about it, had been one of the hardest things Jay ever had to do.


	29. Stay With Me

It was pushing midnight and she had yet to call or at least text. She should have landed over two hours ago. A flight from Florida to Washington D.C. took no more than three hours. He started pacing in the tight space of the tour bus as their driver slowly moved through traffic. It was going to take at least 13 hours to drive from Miami to Nashville and at the rate the cars were moving, it was going to take triple that. With three scheduled stops –one for gas and two for the driver to actually sleep- they're supposed to be officially in Tennessee in two days, the first of September.

Her flight left at five in the afternoon; she was scheduled to land in Washington D.C. a couple of minutes before ten at night since she had a layover in Charlotte, North Carolina. The clock just struck midnight and she still didn't call. He was worried; he didn't worry, he's not a worrier.

He tried calling her cell phone but it went straight to voicemail. It either died or was on airplane mode, whichever it was, he hated it because it prevented him from getting into contact with her. He called each of her guards, but each and every call he made went straight to voicemail probably for one of the same reasons he mentioned earlier –however in this case he was leaning towards their cells being on airplane mode. He didn't know for sure, but he wouldn't be surprised if somewhere in their training manual –if they had one- that it was against the rules for all of their phones to die which cuts off all source of communication and contact with them.

Jay spent the last hour refreshing his twitter page along with the CNN app he recently downloaded on his phone, only because Erin told him it's important to stay updated on the news. For some reason he was even more thankful at having downloaded the app because for the next half an hour he was refreshing the page to make sure there was no breaking news about anything happening to her. His mind formulated the worst thought possible, the worst case scenario.

Halstead continued to pace in the dark tour bus; the only light comes from his cell phone screen and the headlights from the cars driving along the highway. He wouldn't be able to get any sleep without knowing she made it home safe and sound. Already expecting it to be a long night, he flopped down onto the bottom bunk, running his hands over his tired eyes as the sound of Ruzek's snores from the bunk above his grew louder and spread around the bus.

He tried to call her again.

He sat back in his bunk, kicking off his shoes and laying down, pulling the thin blanket over his body, "Come on Er, answer, so I can get some sleep." He tried to call again. It went straight to voicemail like the many times before. He checked social media. He checked CNN. Nothing happened; there was no breaking news in regards to her and no headlines mentioning her name.

He should be relieved. He wasn't.

Jay opened Twitter and typed out a tweet, tagging her name in the message: _If anyone has seen or spoken to ErinVoight can you let her know that her boyfriend is awaiting her call. Where are you, babe?_

And if he knew he would receive retweets and comments of Erin Voight sightings at the three airports she's been to today –Miami, Charlotte and recently D.C.- then he would have went the Twitter route hours ago. His followers saved the day, mentioning her in their retweets back to him; she was first seen by a few arriving to Miami's airport, then waiting at her terminal. She was seen by a number of people boarding her plane and someone even mentioned to him that she ordered a glass of wine while on her flight from Miami to Charlotte. While he didn't need that bit of added info, he would never complain about being privy to any and all sort of information related to his girlfriend. She was seen waiting in Charlotte's international airport by more of his followers than he cares to count, and one was even on a flight with her to D.C., casually mentioning to him that their one hour layover turned into a two and a half hour layover because of something involving the maintenance of the plane. Another few followers mentioned spotting her leaving the D.C. airport with her guards in tow. The retweets and comments from his other followers included declarations of love to him, a few sprinkled insults and a number of people introducing themselves as his biggest fan. He overlooked those.

His first priority was his girlfriend. And even though she hasn't called him yet, he knew she landed and made it back to the nation's capital unharmed.

Erin's phone is dead. She watched it flicker out the second she was boarding the plane from Charlotte to D.C. She could never sleep on planes so she was forced to stare out at the dark sky as her guards snored beside, behind and in front of her.

Erin just arrived back home and she's utterly exhausted. She was on tired legs as she turned the key in her lock and pushed the door open, "Home sweet home."

She dropped the handle of her suitcase in the hallway, kicked off her shoes as she walked to her bedroom, and slowly started throwing off articles of her clothing. Standing in her underclothes, she makes it precedent to plug her phone into the charger beside her bed as she ventures over to her dresser to grab a shirt –Jay's shirt- that he left here. Or that she took out of his suitcase when he packed his bag back up to fly off to Nevada.

Once her phone had enough power in it, it buzzed back to life, lighting up the screen with the Apple logo on it. She doesn't pay attention to it. Instead she ventures into her bathroom to comb her hair, wash her face and brush her teeth –a nightly routine that she's trying to get in the habit of doing more. She's human. Sometimes she forgets.

Her phone erupts with notification after notification. Her texting tone doesn't even have a chance to blare out the entire sound because it's cut off by more texts, by the sound of voicemail notifications and social media notifications. Her phone dies for a couple of hours and it seems like the world is on fire. While she had every intention of not responding to anything, at least until she's had at least eight hours of sleep, she decides to anyway because at the rate the notifications were coming in, she'll be spending all day going through them.

Missed calls from her mother, her father, her brother, Severide and Jay.

Text messages from her brother, Annie, Severide and Jay.

Social media notifications from Jay and a number of mentions from people she doesn't even know.

She goes straight to social media; the rest can wait. She clicks into Twitter, spotting Jay's tweet the second the app loads up. She chuckles before going over to the list of mentions, finding herself tracked by a number of his fans to keep him updated on her travel. She calls him.

He answers on the first ring.

"You were having me tracked by your followers," she gave a tired and exhausted laugh, "I don't know if I should be offended or flattered."

He yawns, "You should be flattered; you should definitely be flattered."

"My phone died," she admitted, turning off her bedside lamp before crawling into bed.

"I figured."

Erin places him on speaker as she hears him adjust himself in the bottom bunk of his tour bus. He sounds like he's uncomfortable; she got a brief tour of the bus, the bunks were small and the bus itself was cramped. She couldn't imagine being housed on the bus with three other guys, including the bus driver. She hears him release a sigh, "Are you squished?"

"How'd you know?"

"It's a gift," she replies, yawning into her opened hand.

"You're tired."

She nods in the darkness of her bedroom, "Yeah, traveling is exhausting but I don't think falling to sleep is going to come easy. Talk to me."

"About?" He yawns. The sound of it is contagious and causes for her to yawn again.

"Tell me about when you decided to become a musician."

From whatever city in Florida the tour bus was currently driving in all the way to downtown Washington D.C., she could practically see and feel the smile on his face. She adjusted the pillow below her head and pulled the comforter up to her shoulders as she listened, "I was young when I first got interested in music. My mom had a beautiful voice and I must have inherited that. She would sing to me and my brother all the time as kids. She was into church and she regularly sung in the choir too. She always encouraged us to express ourselves and the first time I actually picked up a microphone to sing was at her funeral."

"I bet she would have been so proud."

"That's what Kim says."

"Well Kim's a smart woman."

Jay smiles, "I wish you could have met my mom. She would have loved and adored you, almost as much as I do."

"I wish I could have met her too," she adds.

"Um, after her funeral, I started singing more to feel closer to her. I started writing music and I actually taught myself how to play the electric guitar and the piano."

"You know how to play the piano?" She interrupted.

"I had a lot of time on my hands since I was grounded majority of my adolescence."

Erin left her phone on speaker, but moved closer, bringing her mouth over the mouth piece to ensure she spoke clearly, "By your dad?" She knew the subject was sensitive for him.

"Yeah; he didn't know the first thing about raising kids so when my mom died, he used alcohol to grieve and anytime we acted out or did something wrong, he would either hit us or punish us," his voice was low; she knew he was in a bus full of his sleeping bandmates and he didn't want for any of them to wake up to see this side of him –the vulnerability he fears and tries to hide, "it was when I was in tenth grade that the band formed. I wrote the music and Will got us some gigs. We performed mainly at high school parties until we graduated and then during the day I would bust tables at some restaurant that's probably shut down now on the Southside of Chicago and then our gigs would be at night in some club or bar that decided to hire us to be the entertainment of the night when their first acts would cancel or back out at the last minute."

"If only those spots knew how big you guys would become."

He shrugs, "They milk it for what it's worth. They have posters up and include it in their ads that we performed at their spots before we were famous."

"You ever think about going back?"

"Sometimes, maybe just to see who the entertainment is of the night."

She buries her face into her pillow, shutting her eyes for a few seconds to rest before reopening them, "How'd you guys get famous?"

"Well after three record labels rejected us, I was pretty close to giving up but then I thought of my mom and I thought of how passionate she was about her talent. I felt I owed it to her to be just as passionate about mine. How does that saying go? If you don't use it, you lose it. Will got us a gig at some festival in New York; it was the first time we left the state of Illinois and actually traveled and there we were spotted and we signed on after a week or two of negotiations. And the gigs started coming in more, we noticed our fan base starting to pick up, we had our first television interview and then next thing I know I have our first album written and it's being released and then we're going on tour, getting awards, getting followers, making money, traveling and then I write a second album and now we're on a second tour and it's all happening so fast now when in the beginning it started off so slow."

She takes a deep breath as she processes every word he's just spoken, "I'm so proud of you," her voice sounds tired; it's filled with a heaviness that's a mixture of fatigue and exhaustion.

Jay doesn't respond immediately. He doesn't know how to respond. Besides his mother, Erin is the only person who tells him or has told him about how proud he makes her. It gives him a fuzzy feeling inside. It makes him miss his mother more. It makes him hate his father even more.

"How many days until we see each other again?" It's him that asks because he wants to see her, he misses her even though he saw her some hours ago.

She pulls the calendar app up on her phone and it's too late for her to count the days so she makes a guess, "I think like 43. September has 30 days. We have like two left of August and then we have to make it through an additional week and a half in October. I think its 43 days, give or take a few days."

For a few short seconds, it's silent on the phone and she thinks he fell asleep, but she knows how he sleeps –he's a snorer- and when she doesn't hear one loud breath of air, she knows he's still awake. She knows he's thinking. She knows him.

"What's on your mind this late at night?" She briefly glances down at the time on her cell; it's a little after one in the morning, "Or should I say this early in the morning?"

"How do you always know the right thing to say?"

He's referring back to her 'I'm so proud of you' comment. It meant more to him than she'll ever know. In this case, she doesn't even know it's still on his mind. Such a small statement that she's heard regularly throughout her life meant the world to a man who's heard it enough times that he literally remembers each and every time he was told it.

"What do you mean?"

"You always know what to say," he clarifies and she hears him moving around in his uncomfortable bunk; she sympathizes for his back, "It's like you say the right thing at the right time all the time. How do you do that?"

"Years of practice," she offers with a shrug, "but to be honest, I truly don't know. I can guess or throw out a theory but that's all I can offer."

"I'll take it."

"Maybe it's the combination of growing up as a politician's daughter and being a lawyer. I was taught at a young age to think before I speak because words, just like actions, have consequences and a lot of what we say and do can come back to bite us whether it's one day, two months, three years or a decade down the line our past statements and actions can make a reappearance. And when it comes to law, practicing law and being a lawyer we have to be very careful about what we say because it's documented in the courtroom and just as the Miranda rights tell a person when they're under arrest, you have the right to remain silent because what you say may be used against you. We can be our own worst enemy and I'm already my biggest critic. And I sometimes slip up and say the wrong thing; I'm not perfect at it, only human. I'm not good at many things, but public speaking, I'm well on my way of mastering it."

"I think you've mastered it."

"And I think I love you," she whispers.

"You think?"

"I _know_ ," she corrects.

"And I still can't believe it."

"Why not?"

And this brings up those emotions he felt earlier today, all the thoughts that swirled through his mind after he spoke to Rixton. It all comes back up and he's sitting on the bottom bunk on a tour bus filled with his bandmates and a bus driver who is most likely hearing his side of the conversation. It's late and he blames it on the early hours; it's close to two in the morning and by the next hour, the driver will be pulling over to a rest stop so he can get a few hours of sleep himself. He blames the urge to talk, the fact that he told her about his parents –albeit briefly, but he told her nonetheless- and he can never take it back because now she knows.

"Because you're _you_ ," he keeps referring to her as 'you're you;' he did it when he invited her to be his plus one to the awards show and now he's doing it again. He says it as if it explains everything. And he doesn't do emotions. He doesn't like being vulnerable but for some reason talking to her makes him vulnerable sometimes and he hates it. He hates commitment and relationships when they start to make him feel weak and exposed.

"You're going to have to clarify, babe."

"You're the one good with words, I'm not," he uses it as an explanation, but she simply waits for him to continue, "I just mean," he prays that no one can hear him; that all his bandmates are still asleep, "you're _you_ ," he uses it again and it still explains nothing, "and I'm me," that's a new one that he feels more comfortable explaining, "I'm an adrenaline junkie. I'm spontaneous, but not always in a good way. I'm a risk-taker. All of those reasons are why I like driving double the speed limit, why I enjoy and encourage public sex, why I didn't use a condom with you after that time in the pool without even knowing if you were on birth control, why I've used my first official pay check to go sky diving, to zip-line, and scuba dive, why I didn't show up to perform at the Independence Day concert knowing your parents would probably hate me if I bailed, why I threaten to walk out of interviews if someone ask me a question I tell them not to ask. I don't like people telling me what to do. I hate authority. I don't play it safe. I ride motorcycles without helmets. I speed without wearing a seatbelt. I've probably gotten more speeding tickets than half of the people you know combined. I have a criminal record. I have a short fuse. I have anger and a hot temper that I've –for the most part- kept at bay when you're around and I can't help but wonder how you can love someone like that, someone that is the polar opposite of you, someone that will probably never have your parents' acceptance."

This is heavy stuff and she still doesn't know exactly what he means by 'you're you,' but she drops that particular thought when she's presented with new material to respond to, "Okay," she takes a deep breath as she thinks and starts to realize that maybe she isn't as good with words as he believes because she doesn't even know where to start. She's speechless and she's thankful that he cannot see her right now because in combination with her lack of words, there's a look on her face that she fears he would have taken the wrong way if he saw her in person.

"Jay," she unplugs her phone and rolls over to her other side; "I love you because of every reason you listed on why I shouldn't love you."

"Erin…" he sighs in disbelief.

And because of that she tries a different tactic.

"You've changed my life for the better. I'm not perfect."

"You're damn close to it," he retorts, running his hand down his face.

"I've done drugs and I've indulged in underage drinking. One of my childhood friends was a teenage mom, my college best friend was a ladies man and my other college best friend was a prostitute and a drug addict," she reminds him kindly, "I play it too safe. I care about what most people think of me. Spontaneity makes me nervous; I prefer to plan things out ahead of time. I'm far from a risk-taker. But, being with you brings a side of me out that I've yearned for, you bring out the best and the fun in me whether you see it or not. Before you, I've never had sex outside of the bedroom, before you, I've never had sex without a condom, before you, I've only probably had sex in like two positions, before you, I've rarely stopped what I was doing to fly to another state days after I was invited, before you, the comments on social media would have led me to purchasing way more ice cream than is socially acceptable to binge eat through my emotions, before you, I would still be eating take out for dinner and not cooking as much at home, before you, I've never traveled as much in one year, before you, I wasn't truly living, I was just going through the day with work and then philanthropy and before you, I didn't know what it was like to be truly, whole-heartedly, passionately, emotionally, physically, devotedly, vulnerably and desperately in love with someone."

And Jay smiles because she's managed to bury the thoughts and emotions that came from having commitment issues –for how long, he didn't know, but it's tamed, hopefully forever. And his smile stretches even wider when he hears her yawn. She may be falling asleep but that didn't stop him from responding and it didn't prevent her from listening, "You always know the right thing to say. You've definitely mastered it."

-x-

It had been another week since he'd said goodbye, since they had their heart to heart, since he last saw her in person and felt the warmth of her touch. Since then, they'd both done their best to stay busy and keep their minds off the other in hopes that the time would go by faster. It didn't work. Instead it gave the opposite effect, only making them miss each other even more. With the more time that passed, the more they dated and loved each other, the harder it was going to be to tour without her, to go days without seeing, touching and speaking to her.

It's the end of the first week of September, close to trickling into the second week. They are now back on long-distance relationship status; and they both hated every ounce of it. He was now in Nashville, Tennessee. He's actually been here for around a week and with his concert happening in the next week, they were scrambling and working through their busy schedule –sound check, lighting, placement, a radio interview for a local station, a fan meet and greet to sign album covers and posters and to close it all up was their concert late into the next week.

Erin had given him a call, promising him the night before through text that she'll call the second she has a few moments of free time –but he doesn't answer. Her face fell slightly when she heard his voicemail tell her that his voicemail box was full. Stupid long distance. Stupid careers. Stupid schedules. Stupid everything. In the age of technology, why was it so hard for her to keep in contact with her boyfriend? She threw her cell phone onto the couch in her office just as the door to her office opened and her mother entered, "Whoa…am I disturbing something?"

"You are actually," Erin rose to her bare feet and walked barefoot over to her desk.

Her mother heard but she could tell her daughter needed the break whether she realized it or not.

"How are you sweetie? You look a little tired. Are you getting enough sleep? And you do look a bit thinner than usual, what are you eating? Are you actually eating?" she cooed, pulling away to look her over properly, "I should have brought food. I wasn't planning to stay long but I can always put in an order for some Thai food from the restaurant down the street."

While she appreciated her mother's love and concern, she didn't need it. She could always use more sleep but recently, with more interns working under her and having to review Landon's caseload since he's still considered a new hire, it interfered in her sleeping scheduled. On most days she got to work around eight in the morning and didn't leave until ten at night because while she managed her interns, the paralegals on the floor and her new hires, she still had to manage her own workload. She was tired, absolutely exhausted, but that's what happens when you fall behind on work to visit your boyfriend for a few days. It's been another week since she's gotten back and she still hasn't caught up on the work she's missed. And while she usually brings work with her, she hardly ever gets any of it done.

"Mom," she took a hold of her mother's hands, "that's not necessary. I actually brought my lunch; I just have to heat it up, but I'm considering using my lunch break to actually take a nap instead. I'm more tired than hungry to be honest."

"You poor thing," Camille envelopes her arms around her daughter, drawing her into a tight hug, one that practically squeezes Erin's vocal chords, "Want me to talk to your boss?"

"No, no," Erin shakes her head as she pulls herself out of her mother's arms, "absolutely not. I am _not_ sending my _mother_ to talk to my boss. I can handle this."

"Erin, you're tired, you're hungry and no offense darling, but when's the last time you introduced a comb to your hair?"

Her hair was in a messy bun. She washed it this morning, but she was running behind schedule and didn't have time to comb it out and dry it. It's going to be a mess to deal with later.

"Thanks mom," she sarcastically responds.

"And your nails and toes," Camille glances from her daughter's hands to her feet, "I don't think I've ever seen you without them done. The polish is coming off."

"Mom…"

"I'll treat you to a spa day," her mother interrupts.

"I don't have time. Maybe for my birthday?"

Camille waves off the suggestion, "No, that's not until April; it's September and you need it."

"Mom, I'm fineeeeeeee," Erin dragged out the last syllable.

Camille didn't look like she believed her. With the concern of a mother, she raised her hand and held it against her daughter's forehead, "I worry about you sometimes. You're running yourself ragged. Between work, volunteering, and traveling to see Jay, you're slacking when it comes to taking care of yourself. I'm worried."

"Mom, I don't need you to worry."

"Well too bad because I am," she brings her manicured nail –painted light pink- up to run along the side of her daughter's face, "You don't need to keep flying out to visit him."

"It's a relationship, mom. We make sacrifices."

"It sounds to me like you're the only one making sacrifices," she retorted, biting her lip afterwards and tilting her head as she waits to see how Erin responds.

"We both make sacrifices."

"Okay baby," Camille gently cups her daughter's face with her hands, "you've been spending a lot of money on plane tickets to visit him, you've been letting him in emotionally and I saw the tabloids when it assumed that the two of you broke up because he was spotted getting cozy with another woman and not to mention after all the hard work we put into getting his band the perfect spot at the Independence Day concert and he doesn't show…that guy has a lot of nerve."

"Mom, he wanted to earn it on his own; he didn't want me to get it for him," she defended, "and he's spent money on tickets to see me and he didn't cheat on me and we never broke up and he's been letting me in emotionally just as much."

"He could have at least had the balls to call and decline the offer," she asserted, rolling her eyes disdainfully, "I knew I should have listened to your father. He's unreliable, untrustworthy and he doesn't appreciate the hard work that we put in to doing something nice for him. I worked for weeks, along with my assistant, to get his band that spot and he declines because his feelings were hurt that his girlfriend saw his talent and networked for him to get this once in a lifetime chance. I had to do major damage control, Erin."

Erin felt too tired to argue, but when it came to her boyfriend, she had all the energy in the world to defend him, "I used my status as your daughter to get him that spot. He wanted to earn it for himself, to get it because of his own merit and celebrity status, not because of mine."

"How nice," Camille sneered.

"Mom, come on, you like him, and you know he's a good guy."

"Sweetheart," her hands are still holding her daughter's face, "while I respect the fact that he wanted to earn it on his own, you don't bail when someone does something nice for you. If he wasn't good, if he wasn't high profile and talented and of a celebrity status that is required for such an event, I wouldn't have tried so hard. This event represented me because I started it when I first became the First Lady and I hosted it every year since then and my name is all wrapped up and tied in the making and the production of it. I wouldn't have allowed someone who lacked what was needed –whether it's talent, merit and/or status- to perform in the concert just because they're sleeping with my daughter. I saw him perform in front of your father. My assistant is a huge fan, remember? And after you mentioned the idea to have him perform in the concert, I did my research and he has a major fan base and he surpassed every requirement needed and that's why I worked so hard because you were right, he deserved to perform, he is good enough and that's why I did what I needed to do to give him the perfect time slot to perform and he never showed. I had to find out his band wasn't coming from you. That's unprofessional, but you can let that boyfriend of yours know that I don't make the same mistake twice."

Camille presses a kiss against her daughter's face and finally drops her hands. She takes a step back and settles her hands against her hips in an effort to calm herself. Erin was tired and she was using every ounce of energy coffee managed to provide her on this argument. She didn't know. She screwed up. And this could have all been avoided if she minded her own business. She honestly, truly didn't know and neither did Jay.

"We didn't know."

"Of course he wouldn't," Camille shrugs; her hands still rest on her hips when she does it, "why would he? It's not like he got into contact with me to decline the invite."

"I didn't know."

"And even if you did, the two of you were fighting so I highly doubt he would have been interested in what you had to say at the time," Camille was now pacing; it seems the more she talked about it, the more upset she got, "but it appears it just takes for you to almost get hurt for him to come around so you two have that going for you."

"Mom…"

"I liked him for you. I thought he brought out a light in you that I haven't seen in a long time and that was good, but he disappointed me."

"Yeah well, he once told me that disappointments are a result of expectations and he can't measure up to those."

"He didn't even try," Camille sneered.

"Mom…"

"I mean how does he expect your father to like him when he keeps proving him right?"

"Mom…"

"And I mean right in the sense of being unreliable, untrustworthy and selfish and not to mention that unflattering tabloid about him seeking comfort elsewhere didn't help!"

"Mom…"

Camille is now rubbing her temples while her eyes are shut, "I'm a mama bear who is a tad bit protective of her cubs and I just hate the fact that I don't like him right now because it makes things difficult for you and I want to like him but I just don't, I don't! And when your father vents to me about him, I used to defend him but now I find myself venting too because he disappointed me and you made a good point about expectations but I'm human Erin and I have expectations for practically everyone in my life and the lives of my children."

"Mom!" Erin interrupts, and Camille slowly peels her eyes open, "Why are you here?"

She didn't come to talk about Jay; she didn't come to vent about him. She actually came for something completely unrelated.

"I actually came to ask for a favor," Camille drops her hands from her temples, "but you're busy so I think I'll just ask your brother."

"What's the favor?"

"Your father has to go to the UK in mid-October for a week and I already RSVP'd for a number of charity events in that same week and unlike your boyfriend I try to stick to-" she interrupts herself after her daughter shoots her a look, "okay, I'm sorry, I just wanted someone to go with him, someone that's family, but you're busy and I can just ask Justin."

"If Justin goes, dad will only see him twice, on the flight there and the flight back."

"Fair point you make but you don't need to go, you're already about to pass out."

"True," Erin grins as she takes her mother's hand, "but I can't pass up a trip to visit the UK. I couldn't go with you guys last time so I'll go this time and I could use some alone time with dad."

"I don't know how much alone time you'll get with over 20 secret service guards, not including your four, and a team of staff members with you guys from sun up to sun down."

Erin shrugs, "We'll figure it out."

"Thank you. And I promise I'll get you an unlimited amount of spa days because you deserve it."

Camille doesn't stay long after that which Erin appreciates. She actually uses the excuse of taking a short nap as a reason to get her mother out of the door. She flops down onto her sofa, staring down at her unpolished toes and the pure exhaustion that courses through her body honestly makes her want to cry.

She hears a tune from her laptop; it's facetime. And she has to force herself to her feet to walk over to answer the unexpected call from her boyfriend, "Hey," her throat is dry.

"Hey babe, so I got a speeding ticket earlier today," Jay grumbled, pulling his jeans up a little more forcefully than necessary; he had just gotten out of the shower, "and I was wondering whether or not you think I should try to fight it?"

"What were you going?"

"Don't freak out," he dryly chuckles; he knows she's going to freak out.

"What were you going?"

"Ninety in a sixty-five," he whispers as if he's ashamed but she knows this isn't the first and it won't be the last, "Don't be mad."

"I get that you love that adrenaline rush, but can't you find a safer way to get it?" She practically pleads and the tears that threatened to come from exhaustion were starting to appear, "I will never forgive you if I get a call in the middle of the night or find out from a celebrity news site or channel that you died while being a thrill-seeker."

"I'm sorry."

"I don't need you to be sorry; I need you to be careful."

"Okay, I'll try. I promise, just don't cry," He hates the sound of her voice when she's on the verge of tears; he hates the look of her crying, "just please don't cry."

"Just pay the ticket. And thank you," she sniffles, using the back of her hand to wipe her face.

"I mean I don't really have a choice. We have to pick our battles, right? We're compromising and I don't think you're asking for too much."

"Well look at you," she cracks a smile even as drowsy tears form in her eyes, "I think you're well on your way to being a man of wisdom and words."

"I have a long way to go," he chuckles.

Erin doesn't tell him about her conversation with her mother. She doesn't mention the fact that she's literally about to pass out from exhaustion. She even talks over her growling stomach. She doesn't tell him any of it but he does notice something is off.

"How many days do we have left now?" Jay carries his laptop into the bathroom, setting it down onto the counter as he stares bare chested in front of the mirror, reaching to grab his shaving cream to spray into his hand and rub it along his jawline.

She's so consumed with watching that she misses the question twice to be exact. When he ask the third time, she finally responds, "Um," she clicks over to her calendar app to scan it, "maybe like 30. Don't quote me on this."

"I never do," he chuckles.

Erin watches him shave; she watches as he glides the razor along his jawline, only to rinse and wipe the cream and hair off after it becomes too much for the razor to bear. He continues to shave, eyeing his appearance in the mirror, but focusing the conversation on her, "What's wrong, Er? And don't say nothing's wrong."

"I'm just tired and hungry."

"Since when is my girl not hungry," he throws out a joke to lighten the atmosphere but she's too tired to laugh, she's too tired to register it as a joke.

"Since I don't have enough time to actually eat," she answered his rhetorical question.

And that's when he lowers the razor, turning it off to face her, "When's the last time you've eaten? And when's the last time you've had at least eight hours of sleep?"

"A few hours ago is the answer to your first question and I honestly can't remember is the answer to your second."

"What's a few hours ago?" He's growing concerned the more he talks to her.

"…maybe when I first woke up."

"And what time was that?"

"Five…"

"In the morning?" She nods to answer his question, "and what did you eat?"

"I had some grapes."

"What else?"

"…just that."

"Have you not eaten lunch yet?"

"I'm just going to skip it to take a nap."

"And how many hours of sleep did you get last night?"

"Um," she thinks to herself but it's difficult for her brain to focus on anything right now, "I got home around 10:30 and I did some work until around two, and I woke up at five so maybe three or four hours of sleep last night."

"And the night before that?"

"…maybe two or three hours."

"Erin…" he sighs and turns to face her in the camera screen; half of his face is clean and shaven and the other half of his face is covered in shaving cream.

"I know! I know, my mother already got on me, but I'm so behind on my caseload and my clients keep calling me and my boss is up my ass right now and I'm training interns and my paralegals are slacking and the other lawyer who usually helps me out when she's finished her caseload is on maternity leave because her baby is due next week and Landon keeps stopping by because he needs help with his work and apparently since we went to school together my boss assumed I would be the best person to help him out at least until he's broken in and that's just everything involving work, I didn't even mention the volunteer work," and now her voice is wavering and she knows he hates to see and hear her cry but she's so damn tired and according to her menstrual app her cycle will be starting a little over a week from now and she just wants to sleep for the next week and quit her job and cancel all her RSVPs.

Halstead turns to face her completely; his face is covered in sympathy and compassion and he's never understood when someone would say their hearts go out to a person until this moment right now. His heart goes out to her.

"Breathe, Erin, breathe," Jay encouraged, "Stay with me here."

Erin flops down into her desk chair, closes her eyes and does as instructed. She inhales and waits for him to direct her to exhale. This occurs three times until a light knock beats against her door and she wishes her secretary didn't have the week off to attend her son's destination wedding in Jamaica because people didn't normally visit her as much with her secretary out there. She would have to give her a raise when she gets back. She didn't realize how many people she turned away on a daily basis. Besides her mother, her boss and her guards, anyone who tried to enter were immediately dismissed by her. She wanted her secretary back.

"Erin…" She slowly peels her eyes open at the sound of Landon's voice, "I need some help."

"I can't. I haven't even started reviewing this affidavit and I need to have it reviewed and edited by tomorrow morning which truly means I need to have it done by tonight because I'll be in court all day tomorrow and I need it for court. One of the interns might can help?"

"This'll only take a second," he closes the door silently behind himself, completely ignoring and overlooking her dismissal.

She shuts her eyes once again, inhaling and exhaling after a few seconds. She does it again and again and again as Landon makes himself comfortable in one of the arm chairs in front of her desk.

Erin wants to scream. And Jay senses she wants to cry too just by the waver of her lip.

"Babe," his voice catches Landon off guard, "Babe, turn the screen around, let me talk to him."

She shouldn't. She really shouldn't do it but she's too tired to object, to argue and to think about the reasons why it shouldn't be done. She turns it.

And Landon glances down at the screen, glances at her partially dressed boyfriend, her boyfriend whose hair is still wet from his shower and there's still shaving cream on his face. He lifts his razor and turns it back on, facing the mirror to resume shaving as he speaks, "I have a question," he slowly shaves the last portion of his face, "she said she can't do it yet you come inside anyway and pull up a seat. I'm just curious about which part of that you didn't understand."

"The boss said-" Landon never finishes his question because Jay interrupts.

"Which part of that didn't you understand?" he asked again, a little more forcefully.

"My boss said that if I have any questions or need any help to come to her."

"He did, Jay," Erin chimes in defeated, "I could just do this during my lunch break and forget the nap. If I do that then I might be able to finish up the affidavit after I meet with my clients to prep them for court tomorrow. I'll just review the last set of casefiles I have after the meeting," she's speaking more to herself than anyone in the room.

"No Erin, you're taking that nap because Landon here is going to leave. Isn't that right?"

Even though the laptop screen is facing Landon, she can sense that Jay is facing it, that he's looking directly at the screen to watch as the new hire swallows roughly.

"I can just leave the file on your desk and you can get to it when you can."

"No," Jay shakes his head, disapproving the idea, "you can take the file and do one of two things: figure the shit out on your own or ask someone else for help."

Landon rises to his feet, file in hand and scurries out of her office, being mindful to carefully shut the door behind him so it doesn't slam shut. Erin turns the laptop back around to face her, "Thank you."

"You have to learn to say no, Er."

Erin wipes beneath her eyes in a desperate attempt to hide her tears, "I try but my boss assigned him to me and I can't exactly say no to my boss."

"I can. I have no problem with telling your boss no."

"My mother basically wanted to do the same thing."

He shrugs, "What can we say? We hate to see our girl upset," Jay smiles kindly and lifts his laptop, carrying it back into the bedroom, "Now that he's gone take a nap and if he comes back, give me a call, okay?"

She nods and wipes her eyes with the back of her hands.

"You know I can't hang up if you're still crying," he whispered and he wanted now more than anything to be there with her.

"It's nothing a nap can't cure," she reassures and he finds himself inclined to believe her.

"…then please take one."

She nods, "You got it."

"I love you."

Erin mouths it back before hanging up the video call. To keep her word, she rises to her bare feet, walks over to the door and hits the light switch. And just as she starts getting comfy on her couch, the cell in her pocket starts to ring; _I sent your guards a text. They'll be posted up outside your office door and won't be letting anyone inside. I said you needed a nap; they were inclined to agree. Call me when you wake up, -JH_

It didn't require a response. She didn't need to reply. But when she sees her guards spread out in front of her glass door and the glass wall connected to it, obscuring any and everyone's view inside. She typed up a quick response before shutting her eyes.

 _I love you more than anything, -EV_

-x-

Jay flashed a smile in the direction of a large group of women who traveled from across the country to sit front and center as his band performed. He met them half an hour before the concert after Will brought them backstage because they apparently purchased a number of backstage passes that he didn't even know they were selling. This was new; this was another way his brother was trying to make money. They made enough from their album and ticket sales; they didn't need to start selling backstage passes and signed merchandise.

The women, 24 of them to be exact, were all over them behind stage. The touching, the pulling, the groping and the yanking were annoying; they weren't zoo animals or museum artifacts. The women were amazed to be in their presence, staring, gasping and taking photos. The obnoxious volume of their talking, the laughing at things he's said that was not funny and not meant to be funny and the questioning and inputting of their opinions on his next album, on his performance wardrobe –which he doesn't even select- and on his relationship –which he had to quickly shutdown. He doesn't need anyone's opinion on that, especially strangers.

Besides the group of women –who his brother told him to smile to occasionally during the concert because it was a part of the backstage package- the concert is a success. Kim stood near the stage, a few feet in front of her seat with her phone in hand and Erin on facetime. Burgess had called her a few minutes before the start of the concert, knowing that she wanted to be here but couldn't actually physically come. She thought it was a good idea and based on the look on Erin's face the second she flipped her camera around to show the band walking onto the stage to start the first song. Erin enjoyed every second of it, watching as her man owned the stage, flirted with his fans with just the wink of his eye, a smolder, and a smirk or extending a note knowing that out of every member in the band, he was the one with the smoothest, the strongest and the most trained voice. Erin may be bias but he's the lead singer for a reason.

The second the band goes to intermission, Kim sticks her earphones into her cell. She watched the appreciative smile on Erin's face as she wiped her cheeks; her tears contradicting the reminiscent smile on her face, "Hey, are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm just PMSing," she brushes it off with the wave of her hand, "and I miss him and you guys too and I wish I were there."

"Want me to take you backstage?"

Erin shakes her head, "Nah. I know he's probably busy."

"I'm taking you backstage. He's never too busy for you."

Kim rose to her feet and flipped the camera away. The screen was facing her but the lens was faced forward as she gave Erin a brief tour from her seat to the corridor that led backstage.

Erin watched from the comfort of her living room, fire burning in the fireplace, hands grasped around a warm mug of hot chocolate as she watched the image on her laptop screen buffer to find connection as Kim moved through the many passageways that led to the room where most of the backstage magic happened –wardrobe changes, hair, makeup and relaxation.

"Excuse me," the image cleared up just as Kim squeezed through an endless stream of women.

Since when were fans allowed backstage. She knew for other celebrities this is a common occurrence but she didn't think District 21 were all for it. Jay rarely spoke to fans unless it was for a possible hookup which he ceased to do since he started dating her. Kim was irritated, pushing her way through the influx of women in a small room that they're definitely violating the fire code to be inside. They had the band surrounded, the grunts, the murmurs, the complaints; the insults because she's married to the band's drummer were being slung her way.

Kim reaches the band and says nothing; she merely shoves her phone in Jay's hand and grabs Ruzek's wrist to pull him away, despite the protest from the women who paid for this experience. She didn't care. She didn't bother them before the concert. When the phone landed in his hand, he was surprised, completely caught off guard because it was handed to him faced down so he didn't expect to flip the screen and see her face.

"Hey baby," he greeted, pulling the earphones out of Kim's phone. He heard the grunts of displeasure as he rose from his seat and maneuvered himself through the crowd of women.

"Hi," she leans forward to set her lukewarm mug of hot chocolate down on the table in order to pull her laptop onto her lap, "Sorry to interrupt, I told Burgess not bring me back there."

"I'm glad she did," he dodged the women who turned to face him, who attempted to approach and touch him, "How come you didn't call me on my phone?"

"…because I wouldn't have been able to watch you perform."

He stops walking, "I'm not following."

"Say that again. I could barely hear you."

"I said, I'm not following," he raised his voice to be heard over the crowd behind him

"Kim video called me and I watched the entire first half of your concert."

The words that come out of her mouth. She had a way with words; she could make the simplest of sentences portray the deepest of meanings. He saw the disgruntled look on his brother's face as he stepped out of the room, "That's better. Now we can talk."

"I really don't want to take you away when you're working."

Jay didn't care. He waved off her concerns and brushed off her worries. He had no clue the identity of any of those women; he didn't owe them anything. He never agreed to the idea of backstage passes. And he didn't find any pleasure in dealing with groupies, especially since he couldn't and wouldn't take any of them back to the hotel with him. Rixton obviously has a different idea; he's invested, he thinks it's all a great idea and he is currently flirting his way through each female that fits in his so called qualifications.

"Days?" He whispered, leaning against the wall directly outside of the room his band and the backstage groupies are all in, "How many do we have left?"

"Let's see," she grabs her phone and quickly jumps to her calendar app; this is the most she's ever used it, "23. We're less than a month away, babe."

"…less than a month away," he repeats in a whisper.

Being two weeks into September and 23 days left until they're reunited, and having to leave for Charleston, West Virginia by early next week, he's banking on the next couple of weeks going by pretty quickly. It was going to be a five to six hour drive from Nashville to Charleston, WV and with their assigned stops, it would take a day; that day would be the day he'll have to occupy himself to ensure he didn't miss her more than usual. When he's busy, he's fine; when he's bored, he's not. He wants her.

"Actually, now that I have you for a few minutes, I want to invite you to a surprise party we're throwing for my mom," he opens his mouth to object but she cuts him off, "and before you throw out the excuse that you won't be in town, you will. Her birthday is in October and it's the day you are scheduled to arrive to D.C."

"I'm going to have to respectfully decline."

His answer was surprising. She didn't really pose the invite as a question because she didn't want to give him the option of turning it down. It was more of her telling him that he was coming with her without actually telling him that he was coming with her. She didn't want to force him, but she wanted him to go. This was her mother that they're talking about; the one person in her family –besides Justin- who accepted him.

"You can't respectfully decline, Jay."

"And why not?" He didn't like being told what to do, even by his own girlfriend.

"…um, maybe because this is my mom," she answered as if he should have already known, "and it's her birthday and it would mean so much to me if you came as my date and my boyfriend."

He stands up straight –no longer leaning against the wall, "I haven't seen your dad since his birthday and he hated me then and I'm pretty sure after bailing on the Fourth of July concert that he hates me more. And I've seen your mom once since I was a no show and it was after the whole disaster where Sorensen got hurt and she was pretty occupied with her worry for you and I could tell even then that whatever acceptance she had for me at first was gone."

"So you're just going to avoid my parents?"

Will exited the room and before he could interrupt or yank his brother back into the room, Jay held up his finger, signaling for his brother to hold on as he responded, "Erin, I don't want to argue about this with you. I'm not going."

"You don't even want to discuss it?"

"Why bother?" He shrugs, "You won't be changing my mind."

"Jay," his brother muttered, pointing at the closed door over his shoulder, "the ladies paid good money to hang with the band and that means all of its members." He held his finger up once more the second he heard Erin emit a loud groan of protest.

"You're ridiculous, you know that?" She doesn't provide him with the opportunity to speak up or even defend himself before she continues talking, "I mean, are you fucking serious right now," and that sentence by itself catches Will off guard. While Jay has heard her curse, knew that if pushed she could out curse a sailor, his bandmates, his brother and everyone else have never heard a curse word –especially the F word- muttered out of the first daughter's mouth.

Will silently stepped back into the room, probably working up some type of excuse as to why he's not dragging Jay along with him. He didn't want to get in between the couple's dispute; he could take the hint and by the sound of her voice, Erin wasn't going to let Jay off the phone and if Will tried to interrupt, he feared that her wrath would be directed at him.

"Erin, just hear me out," he started, attempting to keep his tone of voice leveled and calm, "I'm only going to be in D.C. for around a week and I really don't want to spend that time feeling uncomfortable because of your mother, defending myself and our relationship to your father and being surrounded by a bunch of uppity rich people who only pretend to give a shit about me and my opinion. I'm coming for my concert and to spend time with you."

"Every time I fly out to see you, to watch your concert, I put my feelings aside to try and be civil with your keyboard player who absolutely hates my guts," she slams her laptop down a bit harder than what was necessary, "I sacrifice my feelings because I care about you more than I dislike him. And these are my parents we're talking about Jay; they're not co-workers, friends, neighbors or acquaintances, they're my parents and you'll never be able to get in their good graces if you avoid them forever."

"I'm not avoiding them," he retorted.

"You are," she argued back, "I know what avoiding looks like and you're definitely avoiding."

Jay knew that soon he would have to hand Burgess her phone back in order to finish the second half of his concert. He didn't want to end the call with her while she's annoyed at him, but he knew that at this rate, things were looking like he would eventually have to. Erin sighed on the other end of the screen; her laptop was no longer on her lap but back on the table. In her hands was a mug of hot chocolate that was probably closer to cold than hot. She still drank it, silently slurping up the remainder of the liquid inside before clearing her throat, "Fine."

"Fine?" He repeats; he doesn't know where she's going with that. He hates that word actually because as far as he knows whenever someone uses it, things are not actually fine.

"Yeah; fine. You don't have to go. You don't have to wish my mother a happy birthday. You don't have to see or speak to my parents. It's fine. I mean because you know, why would you need to ever see my parents? Why would you need to ever get along?" He could hear the emotion in her words as her voice cracks, "It's not like they raised me or anything. It's not like they're two of the most important people in my life and I just want for the few people that I love to get along and that includes you."

He was on the verge of giving in, of throwing in the towel and accepting any and every invite she dished his way, but then she wiped her watery eyes and gave him an apologetic smile, "I'm sorry. It's that time of the month and sometimes I can be…a little emotional and I typically try to avoid phone conversations when I'm like this, but Burgess called and I really felt like I didn't have a choice because she never calls me so I figured it was important or serious and I had to answer because she was there with you and I wasn't and she promised she would keep girls away from you back when I first met her in Chicago and it doesn't look like she's doing a good job at that because those women were all over you and I'm not jealous, just emotional, and I'm taking it out on you and I really don't want to go to the party either but I have to go to at least show my face and now I'm rambling and talking nonsense and I guess I'm not that great at speaking, huh?"

"You're just as exquisite as always," he smiled and in return she gave him one. It may have been weak but knowing that he now has to be back on stage, it was worth it. He held his finger up to his brother the second Will opened the door to wave for him to enter, "You going to be alright?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine."

"Did you want me to hang up or hand the phone back to Burgess so she can show you the rest of the concert?"

"Hang up," she answered without much thought, "if I watch the rest of the concert I'll just get emotional and start crying again because I miss you."

"If it's any consolation, I miss you too."

"That is comforting to know," she wiped beneath her eyes.

"I'll be thinking about you," this earned a much larger smile and he now feels comfortable enough to hang up knowing that he last saw her with a genuine smile on her face, tears drying and red-rimmed eyes slowly turning back to their natural color.


	30. Price of Stardom

It was early in the morning, the sun was rising, and they had just gotten back on the road from resting at a rest stop. The bus driver had gotten around six hours of sleep and now that he was fully rested, he was ready to drive the last stretch from Nashville, Tennessee to Charleston, West Virginia. The staff was housed on the second bus; the one trailing behind the first. With the band on the first bus, sitting around the table playing cards, discussing the topic of significant others, the title for their new album –that's still being written- and a debate over who's more competitive, it served to be a somewhat productive method of passing the time.

With 18 days left until they'll be in Baltimore and until Jay will be reunited with Erin, any method of passing time served to be productive for him. After Rixton shuffled the hand and had Ruzek divide the deck before bringing the cards back together and dealing out the entire stack until there are no cards left.

"So Jay," Adam glanced down at his hand full of cards, "I know Will's goal is to have us in the studio by early January. How many songs have you written so far?"

At first it appears as if Halstead didn't hear; his attention had been focused on his hands, the faces of his band mates and the cards being thrown out as he prepared himself to call out bullshit the second he's ready to call their bluff. The only reason Adam didn't re-ask his question is because Jay finally meets his eyes after throwing out around three cards, "Um, I just finished another one recently. I'll have to check my notepad just to remember, but as of this moment, I think nine. Yeah, I think it's nine. I've only named one of the nine."

"And let me guess," Ruzek smirked, tossing out at least six cards –Mouse called bullshit, "the only one you named was Erin's song." Adam was forced to collect the whole deck since Mouse had called his bluff.

"You seriously wrote a song for her?" Rixton was amused by this.

"Yeah," Jay shrugs, holding his cards closer to shield his face, "and don't act so surprised or be so amused. You knew about this too."

"I didn't think you were serious," Rixton argued, throwing out four cards. He was bluffing. No one knew and no one called him on it. His four mismatched cards remained faced down.

"There are two things I don't joke about: my money and my girl."

This had to be the first time the band has discussed Erin without Rixton constantly reminding him about how bad of an idea it is to date her. This was an isolated moment among what Jay felt wouldn't be many. And he was going to enjoy it, just like he was going to enjoy winning the first round of bullshit. Jay managed to bluff his way through two turns.

"I never thought I would see the day that Jay Halstead would be the very definition of whipped."

"I am not whipped." Jay states matter of fact.

Rixton proudly wins the first round just as he retorts, "You're whipped and I can't completely blame you. She does have one hell of an ass."

"Don't talk about my girlfriend's ass."

It was Mouse's turn to shuffle and deal for the next round. But, it was obvious that the mood had shifted. Rixton was still his oblivious self, unaware of the tension in the air. Ruzek and Mouse were trying to stay out of it, knowing that getting themselves involved in an argument or disagreement between the lead singer and the keyboard player caused more problems than it was worth. And Jay, oh Jay he glared daggers into the side of Kenny's face, staring him down until all the cards were passed out and he was forced to look away.

"It appears that I cannot say anything right," Rixton rose to his feet to lean over and pull a beer from the mini-fridge, "I insult her then I'm a horrible person. I compliment her then I'm a horrible person. I can't win it seems."

Jay sighed, "You know what you're doing."

"Halstead," Rixton dragged his friend's name.

"I don't want to hear it. Let's change the conversation before I swing on you again."

Threat stated. Threat noted. Threat assessed. And threat accepted. Rixton didn't push or probe anymore, especially because Mouse chimed in to change the conversation, "Oh, I was thinking about possible names for our next album."

"What did you have in mind?" Jay carefully eyed his bandmates, searching their expressions to see if any of them were planning to bluff through their next turn.

"Well you know I've read through the lyrics you've already written, gave you a few ideas and suggestions so I pretty much have an overview of the direction this album is going," Mouse is rambling and Jay just wants him to get to the point; Rixton used up all of his patience, "and I was leaning towards 'Off the Record' for an album title."

The game momentarily stopped as everyone turned to face Mouse. And he picked up on what was expected of him; they wanted an explanation or to be more specific his reasoning behind his album title suggestion.

Mouse set his cards faced down as he sat up to further elaborate, "I just figured since a lot of the lyrics involve our personal thoughts, feelings and actions we've had and taken since the last album that it should be considered you know, off the record, like what someone would say to a journalist when you don't want to be quoted or cited as making an official statement."

"Off the record," Ruzek repeated in a whisper.

"Titling the album that won't stop anyone from citing it and using our words against us," Rixton retorted before counting up the remainder of cards in his hand, "if anything, it'll do the opposite. Don't get me wrong, I like the title, I just mean if that's the only reason why you want to name it that then you should come up with another."

"In the new album, we're getting things off our chests; we're venting basically," Ruzek responded in an attempt to defend Mouse's idea, "and based on Mouse's explanation, I figured it related to the album in the sense of us expressing our thoughts and opinions and we don't want them to be misconstrued and reiterated in a way that bites us in the ass and I don't see you coming up with any ideas."

"What about Tread with Caution?" Rixton offered, setting his cards face down, "you know, as a warning to those about to listen to the album that it's some serious and sensitive material inside and they need to approach it with caution, especially since there are a lot of references to the paparazzi, the entertainment sites and our fans. We don't want to insult them while being honest about how we truly feel."

And this had to have been the first time in a long time that Jay had agreed with his bandmate.

"I like that title," Jay replied, smirking the second Rixton gave him a pat on the shoulder out of some sort of camaraderie.

"We're two for two; we need someone to break the tie."

Jay lifts back up his cards, "Well we have time. Maybe one of us will change our minds. I still have two more songs I need to write and I need to get your opinions on some of the material we want to be discussed in them. In this third album we've wanted to cover our image and reputation, the paparazzi, the fine line between our loveable fans and our obsessive fans, we've talked about the press and entertainment sites and news and I even covered my girlfriend."

"Speaking of that," Rixton chimed in and Jay held his breath because he had some sort of idea about where his bandmate was going with his interruption, "we've had a say on every single song you've written but the one that talks about your girlfriend."

"It's because I don't need your help with that one and I definitely don't want it."

Ruzek snorted, covering his face with the cards in his hands, "Yeah, smart move, Jay! If you let him chime in on your little song to Erin then she'll definitely come to her senses and break up with you," he felt Mouse elbow him in the side, "or you'll get the whole album shut down by the federal government because they'll perceive Rixton's opinion about her as a threat."

"You're dramatic," Kenny rolled his eyes and resumed the game, tossing out three cards faced down, "and just because I don't like her doesn't mean I'll threaten her. I wouldn't do that."

"Yeah, he knows that if he wants our friendship to remain civil then the last thing he needs to do is threaten my girlfriend."

Jay throws out four cards and someone –Ruzek- calls bullshit; he wasn't bluffing. And Adam groaned as he had to swipe up every card in the pile. The second game was wrapped up quickly after two more turns for Jay; he swiftly and expertly ended the game and then slid out the booth to venture over to his bunk. He figured now is as good a time as any to write. They still had a little more than an hour left until they're in West Virginia and if he wanted to relax and chill in Baltimore then the best thing for him to do now is write and check off as many to-do things as possible. He reached under his pillow; he always likes to keep it close.

Jay flipped over his notebook to add the two album titles his band discussed to the top of the page; he didn't want to forget the titles. His eyes skimmed down the page listing each track that has already been written:

 _Track 1: We're Broken, but Not Destroyed_

 _Track 2: Living in the Moment_

 _Track 3: Sticks and Stones_

 _Track 4: Hearts a Mess_

 _Track 5: Rising Star_

 _Track 6: I Made It_

 _Track 7: Fuck Off_

 _Track 8: Paparazzi_

 _Track 9: Die Famous_

Two more songs to finish writing and then track 12 will be a bonus track; it will be Erin's song. Jay already knows the premise of the next two songs; he's already named them even though he hasn't started writing the lyrics yet, - _Track 10: A Fine Line and Track 11: Rumor Mill_. His muse and inspiration comes from his life and the lives of those around him. Since he basically grew up with his bandmates, the songs speak to them just as much as it does him. Their first album centered on growing up in Chicago and the obstacles they've faced in their quest to become rich and famous. The second followed the aftermath of becoming successful and how they've channeled that lifestyle and used it to their advantage.

Born, was the title of District 21's first album. It held ten tracks: Chicago, Bad Boy, Failure, Never Change, Bad Company, Selfish, I Get Around, Chick Magnet, Finally and My Time.

Reborn, was the title of District 21's second album –the album they are currently on tour promoting. It held 15 tracks: Wild Night, Top of the World, Shockwave (which he sang at Erin's father's birthday dinner), Good Day, Storm, Echoes, Lover, Midnight (which is Erin's favorite song), Far From Over, Red, Still Bad, I'm Complicated, Give Them Something to Talk About, Us or Them and Last Band Standing.

Between Off the Record and Tread with Caution, one of the two will be chosen and become the official title of District 21's third album. With a release date set somewhere in early to mid-March and depending on the sales, the hype and the popularity of it, they could be planning to go on another tour the following year after the album is released.

Jay crawls onto the bottom bunk, fluffs up his pillow to lean it against the wall. He sat back, the pillow providing cushion against the hard wall. He sets the notepad on his lap and clicked the pen, seconds later he puts pen to paper and uses the memories and events of the last year to inspire him to write the song about his fans (A Fine Line) and a song about celebrity news, social media and the entertainment sites (Rumor Mill). Without holding back, bringing every emotion and thought to the forefront, he started writing, knowing that each song would have to be read by each of his bandmates as well as Will –and just to be on the safe side a few staff members- to ensure that he wasn't too harsh in putting their collective feelings to paper because while some of his fans sometimes made them overwhelmed and frustrated, the paparazzi made them angry and annoyed and the entertainment sites and celebrity news channels caused for them to feel irritated and irate, it was because of them that all of this was possible, it was because of them why Jay wasn't sleeping in his car and waiting tables, it was because of them that both albums they've already released were sold out and it was because of them that he got a chance to travel the world and perform his passion. He wanted to get things off his chest but not at the expense of losing fans. He prided himself on being honest, on being real and open; it's why he had fans in the first place. He was genuine. He didn't hide himself and try to be someone he wasn't. They all fell in love with that. And this album had to be the truest one yet. He only hoped it didn't backfire.

-x-

For some fucking reason, technology had a way of failing them at the most inopportune and inconvenient moment. It happens when they're in the middle of an argument, or more like a disagreement or a difference of opinion.

His past exploits came up recently in a tabloid article.

It was discussed on entertainment news.

It was the hot topic on most talk shows across the country.

And there was even a poll put out online that encouraged people to guess how many women he had slept with, and here's the kicker, they're supposed to guess how many women he'd slept with during the span of their relationship.

But, what seemed to frustrate Erin the most was the fact that he wasn't taking it serious. Here she was pacing around her office, rubbing her temples as he smirked at her and the fact that she was even bothered by it all in the first place. Every rumor has some amount of truth to it and when a woman spoke up –her name unrevealed due to her desire to remain anonymous- and said that she was one of many women that Jay had taken home, Erin's anger flared up even more.

The anonymous lady said it was after his concert in Atlanta. Erin was dating him at the time. The woman was an attention seeker. And Jay found it and the stranger and Erin's anger funny.

She wasn't mad at him. At least not because she thought he actually cheated. She was mad because he wasn't taking this seriously. While he may be used to women claiming they've slept with him, that was before he was a taken man. Erin couldn't have people thinking that her boyfriend was out there cheating on her. She wanted, no needed Jay to release a statement.

He thought it was best to just ignore it. Anonymous lady was getting her fifteen minutes of fame.

"This is defamation of character, Jay! It's practically slander," Erin argued the second the image cleared up on both of their laptops; "it's a tort, Jay! That means it's civilly wrong!"

"I have no idea what any of that means, Erin."

She sighs, exasperatedly pinching the bridge of her nose, "It means it's not a crime, but a civil wrong which grants you a right to sue."

"I won't win," Jay shrugs it off, "It'll just be her word against mine. I have no credibility because my past basically backs up everything she's saying. I have no chance of winning."

"…with me as your lawyer, you do."

"This is the price of stardom."

"No it's not," she argued and at this point she's no longer trying to keep the volume of her voice low; she doesn't care who hears her right now, "or at least it shouldn't be! Jay, it could be the price of other people's stardom, but not yours. Not when your girlfriend is the daughter of the president and a pretty successful lawyer and has every ounce of power to find out who she is and ensure that she retracts her statement out of fear of being sued."

"She isn't the first woman who will do something like this, Erin, and unfortunately she won't be the last. She wants her minutes of fame and I say give it to her. It's harmless."

And this was why they were arguing in the first place. They had two different perspectives on the issue. She didn't like this. She didn't like how some stranger could just come out of the blue and make up lies about her relationship. She didn't like how some unnamed woman fabricated lies about her boyfriend. She was protective of those she loved. She didn't like that the woman was a coward and chose to hide her identity out of fear of retribution. If she did know the woman's identity, she would sue her on behalf of her boyfriend. This is bullshit. She wants to throw her laptop across her office –she's so angry.

"This isn't harmless, Jay. How many times do I have to remind you that while things that you're used to that don't harm your reputation, your status and your career can have the opposite impact on mine? I was trending when the news was released, Jay! _Trending_!" What was left of her calm demeanor disappeared and in its place was anger, a rage that contorted her face to ensure that he understood she was far from happy, "I stupidly clicked on it and people were insulting _me_ for staying with _you_! After the first rumor months ago when that stupid magazine article was released with the pictures of you and that girl, most people thought I should have left you then so now it's becoming my fault that I'm still with you while you're out gallivanting in the night and screwing every woman in a skirt! Apparently the whole fool me once shame on you, fool me twice shame on me applies here and they're all commenting on a relationship they know nothing about and it isn't fair and it isn't _harmless_!"

Erin takes another deep breath, calming her racing heart. Her nostrils were flaring as she stared at his dumbfounded face, searching her eyes in his attempt to figure out what is the right thing to say. She shuts her laptop the second the video freezes and buffers in an attempt to connect to stronger Wifi. She didn't even bother saying goodbye. He wasn't taking her serious anyway. And the lack of connection and the fact that technology kept failing her was only worsening her already sour mood. Her corner office had the strongest connection on this floor; if it wouldn't connect here, it wouldn't connect anywhere in the building. She kicked off her shoes and leaned forward to buzz her secretary from her desk phone, "Yes, Ms. Voight?"

"Can you please send in Atwater?" She was watching her secretary through the glass wall as she communicated with her.

"Of course."

In a manner of a few minutes her secretary had notified her guard and Atwater was knocking at her door before entering. He carefully shut the door behind him before approaching.

"Is everything okay," he presented himself in an official capacity; his arms crossed and his hands cupping his elbows as he waits for an answer to his question.

"How good are you at finding people?"

"Who do you need found?"

Erin withdraws her cell from her pocket and loads up an article, "Her. She's anonymous. She never said her name and they hide her face and mask her voice when she does interviews."

"I'm sure I can just take it to-"

"No," she shakes her head, interrupting him, "I don't want it going to whoever you normally send this stuff to, whoever you answer to or the department you work under. I want this to stay between us –in house-, you can let the other guys know too, but I want it to stay between us."

Atwater is silent. He takes her phone, skimming the article and the information. He screenshots it from Erin's cell and sends it to his own. Once he hears the ping, he hands her back her phone.

"After we identify her, what do you want us to do?"

"…just give me her name and her address."

"And then what?" She watches as his left brow rises.

"And then we're going to pay her a little visit," she responds, patting her guard's shoulder, "and please remember Kevin," she rarely ever calls him by his first name –she's serious about this, "what you find stays between us. No one needs to know what you're doing in your spare time."

"You got it," he nods matter of fact and then turns to leave.

It isn't too often that Erin sits in her desk chair, but today was like no other day. Today, she was the protective significant other. Today, she was angry on behalf of her boyfriend. He had been so used to women speaking out and claiming to have flirted with him, slept with him and so much more that it didn't bother him anymore. He actually thought it was funny. It wasn't. He seemed a little flattered. She's not. She's protective over her family and her relationships; she couldn't let this stand and she truly didn't care if he got upset over her interfering because this affects her too. This is her reputation and relationship on the line. She couldn't have some unnamed woman trying to interfere and get between a relationship that is stronger than most people think.

Erin opens her laptop and discovers a missed video call from her boyfriend. She only called him back to save face. She was still slightly mad at him, upset that he didn't take her concerns seriously. And when he answered, the smile on his face from before was gone.

"I don't want you worrying about this."

Her fingers skim the keys on her laptop, "…too late."

"What can I do to fix this?"

"I have it all handled," and at that, his brow raises in interest, "you don't need to lift a finger."

"Why does this bother you so much?" She would have been insulted if not for the tone of his voice. He seemed to truly want to know, to desire an understanding and a glimpse into her mind.

She shrugs, "Why doesn't it bother you at all?"

Even though his question was posed first, he decides to answer hers, "I usually don't get upset because I used to sleep with so many women that I could never even remember them all so when one speaks out and tries to use it to claim fame, I can't really deny it because I don't know."

"…but you know this one!" Erin argues, feeling herself getting worked up again, "She's claiming to have slept with you during our relationship!"

"And do you believe her?"

"No!"

"And that's all that matters to me," he retorted, carrying his laptop towards the back of the bus; he didn't want his band to hear this unnecessary argument.

"Well," she crosses her arms stubbornly, "defending you and calling her out on her lies is what matters to me. She's the talk of not only the entertainment industry, but in the world of politics too, Jay! Our relationship bridges two worlds that typically do not coincide and she's getting her minutes of fame in both. I don't want people calling you a man-whore and telling me that I deserve and can do much better. I don't want anyone talking badly about you."

He sits down on his bunk and angles the screen of the laptop so he can see her better. He watches her as she pulls the ponytail holder out of her hair and runs her fingers through it, once, twice and then a third before emitting a deep sigh. Jay knows she's busy; she's been busy with her work and everyone else's work since she returned. She didn't have time to add something else onto her plate, yet she's doing so because she cares so damn much.

"I appreciate you wanting to defend me Er, but-" she immediately cuts him off with a hard glare.

"You're not the only one who should be defending our relationship. Don't try to talk me out of it. It's too late. I'm going to find out who she is and I'm going to pay her a little visit."

At this, his eyes bulge.

"Erin," Jay's voice sounded similar to a scold, "no, absolutely not. You can't do that." And now he's sounding like her father; his voice took on a tone that is far too paternal.

"And why not?" She's so stubborn.

"For one, she could be a murderer or a stalker. You don't know what you'll be walking in on."

Erin waves that particular worry off, "That's the last thing on my mind. If you haven't noticed babe I kind of have four pretty intimidating guys who follow me around all day. I can't even pee without one of them standing outside the door. I would like to see her try."

"That doesn't comfort me at all."

"I have to do something though," she whispers and in this moment he understands. All of those times he's taken up for her, those emotions that came because people were insulting her and all of the fans that so called loved him and wanted what was best for him would ridicule the one person who was the light in his eye; he understood because in those situations where he defended her no one would have been able to stop him. If his mind was set, then he'll see it through.

And that hand of hers makes its way back through her hair. All of this stress cannot be healthy.

She's overworked. And now she's worrying and stressed out. He's concerned. And now his bandmates keep glancing over at him, side-eyeing with curious glances. Great. He didn't want them to see this side of him; this side of him was only reserved for Erin.

"I'm very protective of those that I love," he smiled at her words; she continued to always know the right thing to say, "and you are included in that category. I might not be as intimidating as you or willing to get into physical altercations or even willing to curse out the paparazzi, but I do have my methods of defense and I'm not above using my knowledge of the law to have her running for the hills. She's a coward; she can't even show her face."

"You are an amazing woman, do you know that?"

"It doesn't hurt to be reminded," she whispered in reply and just as her hand reached up to run through her hair, it stopped –midair. She wasn't as stressed. She was calming down.

Good, he thought.

A moment passes, one filled with silence as he contemplates this entire conversation. In the past anytime someone would claim that they've slept with one of the band members, Natalie would handle it. How she handled it, no one knew.

Jay releases a deep breath and raises one brow as he peers at her through the screen, "Okay, but don't go all psycho, crazy on her. I don't want to read about you getting arrested or about the fall out in the paper and I especially don't want to hear about it on entertainment news."

"Yes sir," she whispered and the corners of her mouth slowly start to tilt up.

"I wish I could be with you when you pay her a visit."

"It's probably for the best that you're not," she replied, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear, "I'm nervous about what I'll say. I'm usually only a confrontational person when in court; I rarely have to be in my personal life because I'm so protected that I don't really have the chance. I just hope she's not a pro wrestler or a boxer or something."

Halstead chuckles at that, "…what are the chances?"

"With my luck she'll be a hitman or a Navy Seal or something just as dangerous…"

"And you'll have your guards," he reminded her of her earlier point, "and maybe bring Justin?"

At that, Erin laughs. For a good second, she has a good laugh. Her shoulders shake and her eyes water up just as she calms down, "Now that's hilarious. What is Justin going to do?"

"I'll tell your brother that you doubt his ability to protect you."

Erin shrugs, smirking devilishly, "I'm more intimidating than Justin. If I bring anyone, I'll bring Severide; at least he has noticeable muscles."

"Oh, you've _noticed_ his muscles now, have you?" By the look on his face, she knows he meant no harm with his comment and it was all out of jest.

"When your muscles protrude the way his does, it's hard not to notice," she replies just as kindly, leaning closer towards the webcam built into her laptop, "but your muscles are just as noticeable, especially when you're naked," she winks.

God, he wanted her. He wanted to be with her. This distance absolutely sucked.

With less than a week left in September and only 13 days left until they're reunited, he just needed to get through his concert tomorrow night, an album signing the day after tomorrow, a radio interview the next day and a fan meet and greet the day after that before they could officially pack up the tour bus and hit the road. It's typically a six hour drive and if all goes as plan then he'll be in D.C. before their 13 days are up. They could only count down the days.

-x-

She had to admit; she was absolutely impressed. Her guards worked quicker than expected. Maybe it was out of some sort of protective nature because they saw the interview, they read the article and they saw it all trending? Maybe it was because they noticed how angry she was and knew she couldn't move on until she solved this? Maybe it was because they had more free time than she first thought? It was many reasons why it only took five days for them to give her a name and an address.

Abby Sullivan: a 29 year old diehard fan of District 21 since they released their first album, a waitress, a divorcee, a native of Augusta, GA, a woman with poor credit, a woman in good health, an only child whose parents Mary, an elementary school teacher and Phil, a factory worker worked tooth and nail to put her through school only to have her drop out in her third year. She lived in a one-bedroom apartment on the fourth floor –room 403.

Erin took the three hour flight from DC to Augusta, Georgia with the intent to confront this woman. It's easy to lie when your face is hidden. It's easy to make up tales when no one knows your name. It's easy to create fictional stories when your identity is protected. Erin sits in the back seat of the rented truck with Severide beside her. He flew from Chicago to meet her at the airport in Augusta. She told him what she was up to the day before and he had promised to meet her. He had every intention of being there to ensure she stayed safe and to make sure she didn't cross any lines. With how angry she was on the phone, he knew there was a small, fine line between keeping herself together and going completely off.

And when Erin reads the parts of the file her guys put together on the woman, highlighting the key information, she feels her face grow red in anger when she reads how this all came to be. It seems Abby has gotten her third eviction notice; she needed money. She wrote a letter to a gossip site about what supposedly happened between her and her boyfriend. The company reached out, offered her money and guaranteed her identity would be protected. She jumped at the chance. And she earned a lump sum of $5,000 just to make herself seem like the victim, to cry and lie on queue about how she thought Jay was going to leave Erin for her after their night of passion, about how he admitted to love at first sight and wanted her to join him on tour.

Abby clearly didn't know Jay. That was all Erin could think when she listened to the interview and read the magazine article. Everyone who knew him knew how complicated he can be when it comes to relationships, knew that he doesn't believe in love at first sight, knew that he would never just leave her for a groupie and knew that he was the epitome of a man with commitment issues. All she did was use his reputation against him. She used his past as solidified proof. This woman chose the wrong band member; she messed with the wrong relationship.

The second they pulled in front of a dilapidated apartment complex, she's jumping out of the truck before it's completely put in park. She hears feet rushing behind her, but she's walking with a purpose. No one can slow her down. She reads the building numbers until she reaches 1352 and the speed in which she was previously walking has nothing on the speed she is walking now. Erin was grateful that she wore sneakers today, sneakers paired with leggings and an oversized hoodie that she's pretty sure belongs to Jay.

"Erin, wait!" Severide shouts, jogging up to her side, "We're going in blind. What's the plan?"

"The plan is," she pulls the door to the apartment building open before stepping inside, "the plan is I knock on her door, give her a few choice words and pray I don't pummel her ass."

Severide was caught off guard when Atwater appeared beside Erin, whispering something that only she can hear. He watched her facial expression shift the more he spoke and reluctantly she agreed to whatever he had said. Atwater glances at Severide and nods towards Erin, "Take her out of here. We're going to speak to Ms. Sullivan." He takes the file from her hand.

"Come on Er," Kelly reaches forward to grab her wrist; he tugs her towards him until she bumps into his chest. He wraps his arm around her shoulders and leads her back outside, "You good?"

"Why did they let me fly all this way if they had every intention of talking to her instead?"

Severide shrugs his shoulders and tosses out a possibility, "Maybe because they know you're stubborn and if they didn't agree to let you go, then you would just sneak off?"

"I'm not a teenager. I don't sneak off," she retorted and when his brow rose, she emitted a loud sign that sounded like her giving in, "Alright fine, but why let you come?"

"…probably because I'm one of the few people you actually listen to?" He had a point.

Erin stopped walking. She turned to face him and allowed her head to drop down onto Severide's chest as he held her up against him, "I've never felt like this before," she whispered.

"You've never been in love before," he reminded, rubbing his hand soothingly against her back.

"It's October," she said the month as if it should mean something to him, "we've only been dating for six months and I already feel so…so…"

"I know," he responds back, granting her and her brain a break from trying to formulate what word to use, "and I also know that our flight leaves in five hours so we need your guys to do what they came to do and then head back to the airport."

"Whose idea was it to take a day trip? It was stupid to fly out this morning and then leave the same day," she grumbled, pulling out of his arms and taking a seat on the bench near the front of the apartment building.

"Last time I checked, it was yours," he nudged her shoulder with his elbow, "and if I may add this doesn't help your sleep deprivation at all."

"My mom called?"

"Nope," he asserted with a pop of the p, "it was your dad."

"Ugh, why'd you answer?"

He chuckled at that, "When the president calls, you're more tempted to answer," he remarked, squatting down behind her on the bench to rest his chin on her shoulder, "and he's just worried. Apparently your mom keeps talking his head off about how you're not taking care of yourself and you're stretching yourself too thin and she's scared so he called me."

Erin stands up and pulls the hoodie up to cover her head when she noticed the curious glances from bystanders a few feet away. She gripped the fabric of the hoodie that covered her head to block her face as much as possible. She grumbled, "I don't need a babysitter," as she led Kelly back into the apartment complex and away from the questioning eyes of society.

"I'm starting to think you do need a babysitter," he quipped, "You know someone to make sure you sleep, you eat, you bathe-"

"I bathe," she defended, "I always bathe."

"Okay fine, you bathe, but the other things, you haven't defended once."

"Sometimes they have to take a backseat to everything else in my life."

And when she makes a move to start walking up the stairs, he grabs the back of her hoodie to stop her, "And that's the problem. Sleep and food are important. You have to find time for them; they can't take a backseat. What does your boss say about all of this?"

"I haven't spoken to him."

"And why not?"

"…because he's on a family vacation which he never does might I add so I don't want to take that away from him to discuss my issues," and when Kelly opens his mouth to retort, she continues to talk over him, "and yeah, I know what you're going to say but Mills will never fire me and I know it's only because of who my dad is and I don't want to use that to get what I want."

"How would you use that? All you need is a few days off or a lighter schedule. The place won't catch on fire if you lighten your load."

"…it just might," she grumbles, "and I know Peter; he's a workaholic like me and he doesn't do vacations so the fact that he was forced to go on one and he did with only a few complaints says something and not to mention if I was another lawyer under him and I complained or mentioned to him that my workload in combination with managing everyone else's workload was too much then he would either fire me, suspend me or demote me, but because I'm Erin _Voight_ he won't, he wouldn't even dare utter the words and that's not fair to everyone else."

"Well screw everyone else," Severide's words come out a bit harsher than he intended; he grabbed her shoulders and forced her to face him, "Screw everyone else, Erin. You have to put yourself first sometimes so who cares what they say or think or if it's fair. Life isn't always fair and you can't help who your father is and you can't help if your boss shows favoritism towards you for that reason. You're going to run yourself into an early grave trying to keep yourself off the pedestal you worked your way to be on. Everyone else's caseload isn't the same as yours because you can't seem to say no when offered a new client, a new hire or a new intern. Take a break. Sleep. Bang your boyfriend. Just do something that's good for _you_."

Erin locks his words up in her mind, keeping them with her and holding them close until she's ready to process them. She feels his hands grow heavier upon her shoulders and in an effort to keep the contact after brushing them off, she pulls him into a hug. Their voices carry just as the voices do on the top floor in the hallway of the fourth floor. She hears her guys and she hears a woman's voice –most likely Abby. She hears Abby stand her ground and assert that everything she said was true; she makes it known that they weren't in Atlanta so they would have no way of knowing. She hears the tone of her guys' voices shift from how they usually talk to Erin to a tone that is reserved for those who threaten her safety and security.

She takes the stairs one at a time as she listens in to the woman cite Jay's background as if it was a mantra she practiced. Abby mentions the number of women he's slept with before Erin; she mentions the unknown number of women he _probably_ slept with after meeting Erin. She feels Severide climbing the stairs behind her. Abby talks about his bad boy past. She talks about his criminal record; she even recites some of the lyrics to his songs that brag about the notches on his belt. Those lyrics were true; Erin wasn't ignorant and naïve to it all. She knew her boyfriend's history but she also knew that those lyrics were written before he met her.

Abby grows frustrated when she continues to defend herself. She's stomping like a petulant child and her arms are crossed over her chest. By the time Erin reaches the fourth floor, she sees Abby but the woman doesn't see her. And she's pretty; Erin could see her boyfriend picking her up from a bar the night before the concert as she so eloquently put it. Abby is on the verge of walking inside and slamming her door on the faces of her guards, the same guards who want to act out but know they must stay behind the fine line of professionalism.

"I don't owe any of you an explanation," Abby screeched, running her hand through her long, brunette hair, "You all shouldn't even be surprised. He's a bad boy; it's what they do!"

"Sometimes the bad boy is a good guy just masquerading," Erin found herself quoting some unknown author in a magazine she read briefly about dating bad boys. And even though Abby is stunned into silence, Erin walks the last few steps as she wraps up her defense, "As a way to protect and guard themselves, they put on this mask you can say to hide their true self," her words come out gentler than anyone in the hallway expected, "Jay has that hard exterior of a bad boy, but the sensitivity and vulnerability of a good guy lies within him. The lucky person that he chooses to fall in love with is granted the best of both words and unfortunately you're not that person so you only get to see what he wants you to see, that hard exterior."

The phone in her bra buzzed signaling a text message had just been received.

Abby remains stunned in silence. Her mouth agape and her hand is stuck midway in her hair. It never made its way completely through because by the time she notices and starts to pull it out a few strands get caught in the ring on her right hand. Abby turns to face the first daughter and she goes through the act of opening and closing her mouth in an effort to stall until she can come up with the right words to say. Nothing comes out. And Erin grants her a break by talking.

"You and I both know that you lied about my boyfriend," she asserted, taking slow and measured steps towards the woman, "and I'm inclined to believe that you've probably never even actually met him. And you know what I don't get about this whole thing, Abigail," she utters the woman's actual name in distaste, "I don't get how you can call yourself a fan, nevertheless a true fan or his number one fan, when you lie to the whole world to make him seem like a cheat, when you lie to ruin his relationship with me, with someone who makes him happy. You did it in an effort to break my heart and make me break his by breaking up with him. You did it in an effort to make yourself seem like the victim so the world can believe that this guy left you high and dry to be with someone of importance. And you know what," she lets her unfinished sentence settle in the air as she takes the last step towards her, "he seems to think you did it for the attention because lets face it, you're not the first and you won't be the last desperate woman making up unsubstantiated stories involving him, but I know better. I know you did it for the money," and after that piece of information was brought up, Abby finally made a noise, made a gurgle or some sound that expressed disagreement, "and unlike you, I try not to make claims without the needed proof," she nods towards the file, "I don't like it when people mess with the people I love and I'm going to show the world just how much of a liar Abigail Danielle Sullivan really is when they see the payment transactions between you and every desperate celebrity blog who needed a story, and you see Abigail, the sites that paid you may have gave you their word or signed a contract saying they won't release your name, but I've never done such a thing," Erin takes the file from Atwater's hold and hands it to Abby, "and unlike what you did for Jay, I want you to be prepared when the story breaks. And I don't care if you shred it or throw it into the trash, there's more where that came from."

Feeling a bit proud of herself for not shouting and going off, she turned with a smug look to face her guards and before she could tell them she's ready, she hears Abby speak up, "Wait!"

"…but we're done."

"What if I retract the story? What if I say I made it all up? Can we keep my name out of it?"

Erin considers this for a moment. She isn't mean, she's not a cold-hearted person, but this woman caused her unnecessary frustration. She chances a look at Severide, casually reading his expression before she made up her mind, "I have a flight to catch back to D.C. in four hours. It's a three hour long flight. That gives you seven hours to do damage control. By the time I land I want to see the truth trending like your lies did." And with that Erin walks away, pulling her phone out of her bra to read the text.

She smiles as she reads Jay's words; _Eight days –JH_

 _Eight days and counting, -EV_

Erin shoots off a quick reply as she climbs back into the truck, heading to the airport and setting a countdown on her phone for her supposed arrival time. Abby better be working quick. She hugged and thanked Severide at his terminal, before walking off with her guards to head towards hers. She debated telling Jay; he knew her intentions, he knew what she planned to do the second she found out about the identity of his supposed mistress but when he sends her a photo of himself, Mouse and Burgess grinning on the tour bus she couldn't bring herself to do it. She wants to see if Abby successfully goes through with it. She was going to let him bring it up only to tell him that it was her day trip to Georgia that was the mastermind behind it.

And by the time she landed and turned back on her phone, she saw it was number one trending.

Abby's name wasn't released, but the truth finally was and every part of her felt good as she read most of the tweets reminding people that when it comes to celebrities and entertainment, take every headline and story with a grain of salt.


	31. Keep It Classy

Getting to work at six in the morning and leaving at seven at night in order to go straight to her mother's surprise party pushed her to a level of exhaustion that not many people have or will ever reach. It's been a long, bad and stressful day. She had court today and she lost her case. She met with one of her clients early in the morning, whose case she's been working herself ragged on, and he had fired her today; he claimed that she wasn't giving his case the attention it needed, when in reality she was; she worked herself near an early grave trying to ensure he won, trying to box the defendant into a corner so they're forced to settle outside of court. And what made matters worse was that he fired her and hired Landon and Landon had requested her files, the files she had stayed up for the past three weeks working on. For some reason, today or this week, her hair didn't want to cooperate with the style she had in mind for today. The heel on a pair of her favorite shoes had broken and she was forced to wear a pair of shoes that didn't match her outfit to her mother's party, a party that was filled with hired photographers. Her phone had died the second she pulled it out to record the look of surprise on her mother's face the moment she walked in and they turned on the lights and had all jumped out yelling surprise. The present she bought her mother was the same gift that her mother's assistant had gotten her. And the cherry on top of her not bad day, but bad month was the fact that her boyfriend and his band were coming into town today and she most likely wouldn't be able to see any of them because her mother's party was approaching eleven o'clock and there was no way she would be able to fight the inevitable exhaustion that taunts her in order to visit him.

Erin has been trying to keep it classy but with the way her day, her week, her month has been going, she's close to exploding. She's so close. And when a waiter bumps into her, knocking her champagne out of her hand, she doesn't bother to pick it up or even acknowledge their apology. Instead she growls in frustration and storms off, "You need to watch where you're going."

Justin chases after her, "Erin," she doesn't stop walking; she continues until she's in the hallway, searching for the nearest restroom in this beautifully decorated country club. The closest is the men's room and she doesn't even hesitate to walk inside and approach the sink; the men that were already inside responded in protest but she blatantly ignored them.

The door swung open seconds later and her brother brought himself inside, glaring at the men near the stalls and the sink with a stare that forces them to leave, some of them without washing their hands. He approached her and turned to stare at her reflection in the mirror. She yawned. Her hand came up to cover her mouth before she fully took in her reflection, "I look like shit."

"You do," Justin whispered, earning a harsh glare to be shot in his direction, "but it can be rectified, right," the glare became stronger; "I mean…you're still beautiful."

She opened her clutch purse, "Just please stop talking."

"I'm not helping?"

"Not at all," she replied in a ghost of a whisper.

Justin silently stood to her side and watched as she powdered her face, reapplied her lipstick and realigned her eyeliner. She felt his hand squeeze her shoulder and she took a glance at him to see a look cross his face that she has never seen before, "I'm worried about you." It's worry. That look she doesn't recognize on his face is worry.

"What are you worried about? I. Am. Fine." She spaces out each word in order to enunciate her point, "You and mom have too much time on your hands."

"And you don't seem to have enough," Justin tugs on her shoulder, forcing her to turn and face him, "Go home, Erin. I'm sure mom would understand."

"I can't go home until the party winds down."

Erin found herself regularly taking her anger and frustration caused by exhaustion and hunger out on anyone who had gotten in her way. Her parents were frequent targets, followed by Landon, then her guards, sometimes Jay and her boss and now it seems like Justin will be on the receiving end. She couldn't help it. She was just so fucking tired and if the bags under her eyes were any indication as to how tired she truly is, they showed that she needed to sleep at least for the next three days. Her schedule since she returned from Miami went as followed: five am to sometime between seven in the evening and ten at night she spent at work only to go home and work more –typically on the files that were her own instead of an intern or Landon's casework. She would work at home until everything is completed and that usually lasted sometime until early in the morning –generally one or two in the morning.

On average she would get around four hours of sleep a night and her meals consisted of whatever she could grab on the go. She ate what she could, where she could whenever she could. Sometimes she would eat little snacks like grapes or peanuts in the morning and wouldn't get another chance to eat until late in the afternoon. Her stomach was constantly growling. Her movements were always sluggish. Her quick wit didn't feel so quick anymore. Her concentration wasn't as focused. Her irritability and anger tolerance had seemingly decreased.

And the most embarrassing thing about it that made her want to absolutely cry whenever the thought had crossed her mind was she had fallen asleep, literally dozed off in the courtroom with her client sitting beside her. She could feel herself on the verge of hyperventilating at the thought of losing the case because she failed to prove the required burden of proof that was placed upon her client's legal team. She was forgetful. She lacked concentration and focus. She zoned out at least once or twice when the judge was talking.

And the saddest part about it all to Erin was she didn't feel like herself, she didn't feel her best and she hadn't felt her best in over a month. She had lost a case that should have been open and shut if she was at her best and her client had picked up on it; her client had cursed her out in the middle of an empty courtroom after the judge had ruled in favor of the defendant. She was humiliated. She honestly wanted to run out crying and that was not like her. The importance of sleep was apparent in every aspect of her life, drilling holes into an established foundation that she's worked years to build. Her client had been so angry, so pissed that her guards had to interfere, they had to literally stand between the two of them out of fear that he might just hit her.

She can't even multitask. It's hard for her to focus on her thoughts and listen to what Justin is saying; she doesn't even realize he was still talking until she noticed him waving his hand in her face, "Earth to Erin," she smacked his hand away.

"I hate when you do that," she grumbled, fastening her clutch purse.

"Er," the door to the bathroom swings open and the glare Justin shot over his shoulder sent the intruder back out; Justin looked back at her, "Er, you should-"

She interrupts him this time, "We should get back to the party."

"Not until I talk to you, I'm worried about you."

Erin had meant to close her eyes for a brief second, but they closed for a longer amount of time than she intended. She rocked forwards and backwards listening to her brother talk about how talking about her problems will help with whatever is troubling her, but the thing is, the problem cannot be fixed by talking, the problem can only be fixed by sleeping and she has a feeling her bed isn't in the foreseeable future. She's not having relationship problems. She's doing fine. There's nothing to get off her chest and discuss because no matter how much she might want to complain about work, to do wouldn't solve her problem. Sleep is the only cure.

"Sis," he's never called her that and the name in combination with his hand gently settling on her shoulder is what startles her eyes to open, "If you don't want to talk, at least let me hug you."

And she did just that. She hugged him and she wouldn't admit it if asked but her eyes closed for a few seconds when her head rested upon his shoulder.

Erin reopened her eyes the moment the hug ended. She gave herself a last once over before standing up straight and following her brother out of the restroom. There was a line of men waiting to walk inside to use one of the many stalls, some of the men standing with their legs crossed or bouncing up and down in an effort to hold in their bladder. She saw Atwater standing a few feet to the side, guarding the door with an unwavering expression and she knew immediately that someone –most likely her mother- sent him to search for her.

She must be slacking in her first daughter duties. Duty seems to always call whether she's on or off the clock and whether she's actually at work or not.

Erin felt like a teenager all over again. She felt like a teenager who had disappointed her parents by sneaking out of the house and staying out past curfew. The look on his face had Justin leaving her side to venture off back to the party alone -the traitor that he is. With her head hung and her feet sliding across the tiled floor, she felt like the epitome of a spoiled child who is about to get scolded because she was acting like a brat. She couldn't even stay 'put together' for a few hours to help her mother enjoy her party. And with a loud sigh, she finally reached Atwater and thanked the heavens that all the men who were lined up outside of the bathroom were now inside, granting the two of them a temporary privacy.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, refusing to meet his eyes.

"You don't even know what you're apologizing for," he grumbled, arms crossed at his chest, making the outline of his hard muscles appear against the fabric of his suit jacket.

"I don't, but I figured the conversation was going to end that way so I might as well just get it over with, ya know?"

He chuckled at that. And maybe he wasn't as mad as she once thought.

"Your mom's pretty wasted."

Erin grins. Well good for her, she thinks.

"And she had some pretty choice words with me and your other guys."

Erin has a feeling about what it was about. She doesn't voice it though; she lets him instead.

"We grant you a few more liberties than we're supposed to, Erin." He whispered kindly, setting his hand upon her shoulder, "and your mom is picking up on that. And she's not too happy, she said something along the lines of if something happens to you then she'll make us disappear."

"I just went to the bathroom," Erin spoke up.

"Yeah, I mentioned that but what's also included in the 'if something happens to you' category is if you happened to slip and fall inside or drowned or something."

"Drowned…" she repeated.

And Atwater chuckled again; he wasn't mad and he wasn't taking it personal.

"Remember I said your mom is pretty wasted."

And now Erin's laughing and it feels so good because she cannot remember the last time she genuinely laughed and while her mom may have seen them as just her guards they were so much more than that and that's what pushed her to practically jump into Atwater's arms, slinging her own arms around his neck as his came around her waist, holding up all her weight in his hold.

It was only when she found herself back on her feet, being steadied and held up by Kevin that her remaining guards had joined them. Each of them walked over, smiling from ear to ear as they created a semi-circle around her. She turned to face them and muffled a yawn as she did.

"Where'd you run off to?" It was Sorensen who'd ask.

"I uh," she yawned again and it seems like a continuous thing now, "I went to the bathroom," she points her thumb over her shoulder in the direction of the men's room.

"…the men's room," Dawson chuckled.

And she's had many questionable moments but this one was definitely in her top five. She had embarrassingly nodded her head in shame. At the time she didn't care, but now…

Erin yawns again. Sorensen grabbed her wrist, tugging her towards him and out of sight from the men who are now departing the men's room and tossing glances in her direction, "I think it's time we take you home."

"I can't leave until the party is over."

"Who says?" Dawson scoffs, brushing that particular idea away.

She shrugs, "it's proper etiquette."

"Well screw proper etiquette," and this catches not only her but all of them off guard when the words are muttered by Roman, "I just mean you gotta take care of yourself Er. Sorensen and Atwater are basically holding you up. You need sleep and you need a lot of it."

He was right. They all knew it. She even did.

Erin yawns again.

Dawson shakes his head, tugging her out of the hold of Sorensen and Atwater and into his own, "This is what…the fourth time you've yawned in the last ten minutes. You're tired and we're taking you home," when she opens her mouth to argue he sends her a look that he usually reserves for his children, "don't make me throw you over my shoulder and carry you out."

"I suggest you listen to him," Sorensen offers from a few feet away, "he's not bluffing."

And he wasn't because the second she opened her mouth to tell him another reason why she can't leave, another reason why she's putting someone's happiness before her own and another reason her skipping out on a party she helped to spend hours to plan, he lifts her up and carries her over his shoulders. Atwater laughs. Roman picks up the shoes that had fallen off her feet the second she started kicking her legs and demanding he put her down. Sorensen followed behind, lifting her clutch after it fell to the ground and smirking as he shot off a text from her cell phone to Justin to let him know that she's leaving early.

-x-

Jay is the first to step out of the elevator, wheeling his suitcase behind him as he approached his girlfriend's condo. No guard was positioned outside and he had planned for one of them -maybe Capp since they arrived so late- to be posted in front of her door. He approached it and twisted the knob; unsurprisingly it was locked.

"I can't believe I'm at Erin Voight's place," Kim gasped in amazement and for some reason since Erin started coming around more often, he had forgotten that Burgess was a fan. She always kept her cool even though she internally freaked out when Erin would look at her, speak to her, touch her or even say her name. Kim was a huge fan; she'll argue to be her number one.

Halstead didn't waste any time knocking. There was no point of it. If she was home or on her way home then someone would be outside of her door. Jay reached down and slipped his hand under her welcome mat just as Rixton approached, "I told you we should just go to a hotel."

"Shut up," he grumbled the second his hand felt her spare key; technically it was only used for her guards. When they normally arrived on shift or escorted her back home, they used the key to enter and search to ensure that the property and her surroundings were safe.

Will stepped forward, "Are you sure this is okay?"

"I'm sure," he sighed; Jay was tired and a bit irritated. The trip to D.C. from Charleston was longer than it needed to be. A six hour trip turned into an eight hour trip because of a major accident on the highway. He was exhausted and he just wanted to fall asleep.

Jay pushes open her front door and steps to the side to let not only his band members in, but a few of his staff. The remainder of the staff decided to share the two mediocre rooms that Will had managed to reserve. The hotel didn't have any more rooms available because of some conference that's in town; Will waited too late and now they were without hotel rooms. Jay was frustrated at him too; he had one job and this was a part of it, if he couldn't do it then he needs to hire an assistant who will. Halstead placed the key back underneath the mat before walking inside and shutting the door behind him, "Okay guys, um Erin isn't home right now, I think she's either at work or at her mom's party, but I'm pretty sure if she were here she would tell you to make yourselves at home."

Halstead heard nothing in response. His words were met with silence. He walked further down the hallway, dragging his suitcase behind him until he bumped into the back of someone. That someone being Ruzek, "Come on man, you can't just block the walkway."

"My bad," Adam whispered, stepping to the side and bringing his suitcase with him.

"What is it with you guys?" Jay looked up to see the looks on everyone's faces; the surprised appearance as they took in their surroundings, "You act like you've never seen a condo before."

"I've never seen a condo like this before," Mouse responded, tossing his duffel bag onto Erin's light green couch causing a few of her cream colored throw pillows to fall off, "This place is bigger than my apartment. It's huge for someone who lives alone."

"Really Mouse?" Jay grumbles, walking over to lift the pillows off the floor, "Don't act like an animal. I said make yourself at home but please remember you're not at home."

"Modest Erin isn't so modest," Rixton proclaimed, releasing the handle of his suitcase.

"And don't you start. I'm not in the mood and when Erin gets home I'm pretty sure she won't be either. She's nice enough to let us all stay in her home so the least you can do is respect that."

Rixton grumbled a few words under his breath after Natalie shot him a warning look. It was going to be a boring night if he was forced to actually censor himself.

"How many bedrooms does this place have?" It's Burgess who asked as she made herself comfortable by carefully pulling off her shoes and lining them up against the wall.

"Six, I think, including the master bedroom."

"What does she need with six bedrooms?"

Jay glared at Rixton for his question, "It's probably so people like you would have a place to stay when they have nowhere else to go." Kenny shut his mouth at that and Jay smirked before continuing, "Now down that hallway," he points in the direction, "are the guestrooms, grab your things and follow me."

Halstead gave a tour of his girlfriend's condo and deposited everyone where they would stay for the rest of the night. Will and Natalie were in one room, Burgess and Ruzek in another, Violet and Sarah in another, Devon and the bus driver in the fourth and then Rixton and Mouse in the last. Each person had a place to stay and if not the couch was always a comfortable option. After dropping his own suitcase off in Erin's bedroom and kicking off his shoes, he changed into a pair of sweatpants and a black muscle tee before venturing back out into the living room. He knew if he stayed in her bedroom then he would probably be fast asleep by the time she got home. In order to ensure that he remained awake, he grabbed himself a beer from her fridge and sat on the couch, kicking his feet up and turning on the television. Maybe he shouldn't have grabbed a beer because the alcohol from the road trip was still buzzing through his body.

"I thought you said make yourself at home but remember you're not at home," Mouse quoted him with a teasing smirk.

"Shut up," Jay grumbled, sipping on the cold beer in his hand.

He hadn't flipped through any of the television channels, instead choosing to just watch whatever the channel the television was already on. It was a cooking show; he smiled, knowing that she only watched them to further her cooking ability. Before him, she had no interest and now with him, she had all the interest in the world.

Jay's attention was suddenly alerted when two additional bodies sat down next to him –Rixton and Ruzek. Both of the men had beers in their hands –most likely Erin's beer because they hadn't stopped anywhere to pick any up and all of the alcohol they had on the bus had been consumed by the time they crossed the Maryland-D.C. border. God, he hoped she was okay with this.

And it seems like he's about to find out because Erin stands and waits in the hallway because her guards had saw a light on and heard talking and movement inside. Roman waits with her as the other three raids into her condo with their guns drawn, shouting out orders to everyone in the condo. It's silent. Jay doesn't react when the order of 'freeze' is given. He continues watching television and drinking from his beer as Ruzek and Rixton jump to their feet with their hands up. Everyone else hears the commotion and only enters the living room to see what is going on. Each person is met with an order of 'on your knees, hands up' and they immediately scramble to follow. It doesn't take long for Atwater to register their faces and start to calm down; he lowers his weapon and reaches out to lower the nearest weapon –being pointed by Roman beside him.

"Erin," Atwater calls out, holstering his weapon.

The lady of the hour comes stepping inside, arms wrapped around her waist as she struggles to stay awake. The second Jay hears the front door open and close, he sprang up to his feet to run towards her. She didn't even make it fully into the living room before he was pulling her into his arms, gliding his hands up and down her back to reassure him self that she was actually here, physically and in the flesh. He knew he had missed her but he didn't realize how much until he actually saw her. She was here. He was here.

She felt him grab her face and press his lips against hers in a closed-mouth kiss. She could practically taste the beer mixed with other alcohol on his breath, "I hope you don't mind."

She knew what it was in reference to, "I don't only because you're here."

His arms wrapped around her lower waist and he pulled her against his body, pressing them chest to chest as her own hands circled around him, "How about we send them all off to bed and I show you just how much I missed you?"

"Sorry babe," she pressed a kiss beneath his ear as her face rested in the crook of his neck, "we'll have to reschedule and save that for tomorrow."

Jay pulled his head back, but his arms remained wrapped around her, "What? Why?"

Erin leaned back briefly to meet his eyes, "For one you're a little tipsy and the last time we did _that_ while we were tipsy it was a complete failure and utter disappointment," the coy smile on his face made Erin grin as she nuzzled back into his embrace, "and another reason, it's almost one in the morning, I have to get up for work at five and I've only gotten four hours of sleep last night and I'm afraid I'll fall asleep in the middle of whatever it is you have planned."

Jay was prepared to respond, however he felt the staring eyes of every individual in the room except for Sorensen, and he heard Roman –or maybe Dawson- clear their throats, reminding the happy couple that they weren't alone. Erin blushed. Erin leaned her head forward and rested it against his shoulder as he chuckled, "Sorry guys," she whispered, twisting in his arms so her back was pressed against his chest, "and Sorensen put your weapon down. Geesh!"

Sorensen reluctantly nodded and holstered his weapon. He didn't like to be caught off guard. Her guards should have been notified of their presence. He crossed his muscular arms over his chest, cupping his elbows as he stepped back to stand between Roman and Dawson.

Jay's hands remained on her hips and when she attempted to take a step further to greet and hug majority of the people in the room –minus Violet, Devon and Rixton- but Jay held her in place; he was using her body to block him, to shield the lower half of his body from their eyes. She could feel the affect she had on him. She smirked, dimples piercing her cheeks just as his mouth latched onto the crook of her neck. A tipsy Jay was an affectionate and handsy Jay.

She nestled closer to his side, sighing contentedly as she spoke to everyone in the room, "Hi guys," Erin waved, "I'm surprised to see you all here."

"Yeah well, my idiot of a brother didn't reserve enough rooms and tried to reserve a few additional rooms when he realized this at the last minute," Jay pulled his head away to answer, "And after our concert in Baltimore in two days, we'll be traveling up to New York. You know we just came from a concert in Charleston and didn't want to sleep on the bus for another night," he brushed his lips over her collarbone, "I called. I'm sorry. I hope you don't mind."

His arms remained circled around her waist; her hands were clasped over his as they intertwined and rested against her lower abdomen. His face was buried in her hair, shielding his face from the looks of his staff and bandmates. At some point her guards had stepped out, giving her a look that told her they'll be here in the morning, early enough to pick her up and escort her to work. She simply nodded back and gave them a reassuring smile. Atwater didn't want to leave her alone and it seems the other guys were feeling the same way.

When the door shut, she flashed back into the present conversation. Everyone was looking at her; she was supposed to be saying something. She thought back to the last comment said –it was from her boyfriend. Oh, she finally remembered.

"Of course I don't mind," she had already told him this in their short, private conversation, "I have plenty of room."

"We saw." Rixton spoke up and everyone in the room immediately tensed because no one knew or could accurately assume his thoughts or the words that would come out of his mouth, "Why does anyone need a condo with six bedrooms and four bathrooms anyway?"

"Sometimes if it's too late, I tell my guys to just spend the night. It's no point in them driving home late at night, potentially risking their lives and safety to stay awake on the road just for them to drive back in the morning."

"Mm," he considered her response, "four single guys spending the night with the first daughter; how nefarious?"

"Rixton," Jay warns. His body stiffened from behind her.

"Not that I owe you an explanation, but they sleep in the guest bedrooms," she moved out of her boyfriend's arms; he grumbled in displeasure, "And Dawson is in a relationship."

"So you chose a condo with all of these bedrooms to house your secret service men?"

Jay was seriously going to beat his ass. With his fists clenched and a slight edge to his anger due to his consumption of alcohol, he started walking towards Rixton with every intention of showing just how pissed off Kenny's interrogation is making him. He had every plan to shove him, to hit him and then kick him out on his ass; he could sleep in the cold tour bus for all Jay cared. The only thing prohibiting that from happening is Erin reaching out her hand, wrapping it around his wrist and tugging him towards her as she kindly answered the keyboard player's question, "…not initially," there was a scolding look in her eye, one aimed at Jay that forced him to calm down and retreat away from her, "My mother chose it based off the location it is to the White House. And they aren't the only ones who stay the night. Sometimes my parents do," she smirked when she saw the surprised faces that crossed each person in the room, "yes, sometimes they don't stay at their beautiful and historic house a mile away, they crash here. Sometimes my brother stays or my friends from college; the rooms aren't assigned to my guards. You're planning on staying in one tonight, aren't you?"

She had him there. And Jay was done trying to defend her. Maybe it was the alcohol flowing through his bloodstream that had him somewhat irrational, but she scolded him for simply wanting to defend her albeit with his fists, but defend her nonetheless.

"I just find it interesting how a young, single-"

He's still talking and she interrupts him.

"I'm not single," she revises.

He accepts her amendment but proceeds nonetheless, "I just find it interesting how a young, successful woman, living in the suburbs of D.C. acts like she's some modest, humble being destined to save people and speak up for the voiceless only to return home to her six bedroom, four bathroom condo every night."

"Hey man," Mouse warns, stepping forward.

And Erin holds her hand up to silence him; she can fight her own battles. "You don't know me so don't act like you do." Her eyes flash and close into slits as she glares.

"I may not know you but I know people like you. You're all talk and no action."

Her nostrils flare, "That just shows you don't know me at all!"

Rixton was getting under her skin. Jay was sitting on the couch finishing off his cold beer. Everyone else were nervously watching, mentally preparing themselves to have to pack and sleep on the tour bus the second Erin comes to her senses and kicks them out. Rixton's beer is left on the coffee table when he stands up to face her and Jay at least has the decency to lift it up and place a coaster beneath it. He walks over, a smug look on his face as he speaks, "You use people," he approached her until they stood toe to toe, "You're the first daughter, you're the only daughter of the sitting president. You'll always get your way. I bet you were never told no once in your life. People are only pawns in your life for you to use and play with as you see. You're a civil rights attorney probably only to help people in order to make you feel good about yourself," he waits for her to argue or cut him off and when she says nothing, he takes it as his opportunity to continue, "You're dating Jay probably to get some fun that you were stripped of as a child. They say your home is an expression and an extension of yourself and from the looks of it here," he turns his head to briefly glance around, "it's not telling me anything I didn't already know."

And with that, Jay slammed his empty beer down –coaster forgotten- and rose to his feet, "Rixton, I'm not going to-"

"Who do you think you are?" the high-pitch sound of her raspy voice silences him.

"Did I get the first daughter upset?" Rixton teases, averting his eyes downward as he watches her hands clench into a fist, "I did, didn't I?"

"What do you personally have against me?" the sound of her voice cracks and wavers and she's so angry that it causes her to be on the verge of tears, "I've done nothing to you!"

There's a dramatic pause, a pause so drawn out that it adds a suspenseful and theatrical feeling to his answer, "You're a devil in disguise."

"Fuck you Rixton." Erin turns away from him but he keeps pushing her. And everyone stands in shock –but Will and Jay- at the sight and sound of a curse word fallen so easily out of her mouth.

"Cursing, how classy?"

And she possibly now has whiplash with how fast she turned back around to face him, "I can't do this with you tonight. I had a long day and I'm not up for any arguing, especially because it gets us absolutely nowhere. You don't like me, well congratulations because you're not the first and you won't be the last. And it's okay that you don't like me, I wasn't okay with it at first but I've found my peace with it only because I really don't like you either."

He shrugs off her comment, "I don't care if people like me."

"And that makes me so sad for you because it just shows the emotional wall you had to build in order to block out the hurt of rejection," she blinks away the tears that threaten to fall; she doesn't want to cry, not with Jay watching, looking heartbroken because she knows how he feels when it comes to her crying. She simply turns away from them and allows the one lone, exhausted tear to fall, "You all are welcomed to stay, but I'm going to bed. Have a good show if I don't see you tomorrow. Goodnight."

And with that she walks away and everyone stands frozen in their spots. No one wants to be the first to speak up, but the second Jay shoves his way through whoever stands in his way and the master bedroom door slams shut behind him, Kim walks over and angrily shoves the keyboard player's arm, "Ouch."

"Shut up."

-x-

Jay sat on the window seat in silence. The second he entered her bedroom, slammed the door behind him and locked it, he noticed her walking around, stripping herself of her clothes and changing into her pajamas. He honestly doesn't even think she noticed him come into the room behind her; he's actually willing to put money on her mood, her mumbling expletives under her breath and moving around in warp speed to prepare herself for bed had distracted her from his presence. He sat in her room for ten minutes before he decided to speak and cautiously approach her, "Don't be upset. He's an idiot."

"I'm not upset!" And he knows that's a lie because the second he approached her from behind and wrapped his arms around her waist, she pushed him off, "I'm not angry because of what he said! I've been living in the spotlight for my entire life; I'm used to the criticism, of people thinking they know me and the insults. I've just never had the critics inside my home," there was an obvious pain, an underlying hurt in her words, "When I venture into the world, I expect it and I'm not surprised to get it. However, when I step back inside my house, this is supposed to be my safe haven, the place where I'm protected from the insults and the disapproval. This is supposed to be the one place where I'm free to be myself, where I can de-stress and relax."

Every word was over pronounced. Every syllable was spoken. And Jay winced because he could see the hurt in her eyes, the exhaustion in her body language and he could hear the anger in her voice and the constant deep breaths she forced herself to take in order to avoid taking it all out on him. And he couldn't help but think that all of that was directly and indirectly caused by him. It was his fault. She was overworked because she kept taking off to be with him and she was slacking in her work ethic because they would be texting or video chatting with each other. She was exhausted because he was normally up at night and slept in during the day and her schedule operated in the opposite. She worked during the day and therefore should have been sleeping at night but because his schedule was a piece of shit, she sacrificed her sleep to get in a simple phone call with him. She had a copious amount of stress caused by a various amount of things and incidents: work, rumors, social media, celebrity gossip and his band.

She deserved so much better. He knew it, her family knew it, and most of society knew it and he wouldn't be surprised if she knew it as well. She was smart; she had to have known it.

She didn't. She thought they deserved each other. It's why she's working so hard in their relationship. She wasn't lying when she said she wanted this. She wanted it all to work out.

Jay reached his hand out and gently –yet cautiously- placed it upon her shoulder, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought them here."

"You shouldn't have brought _him_ here."

"Erin,-" he sighed, preparing himself to apologize once again. He's said sorry more times this year than he has in his entire life. What was she doing to him?

She cuts him off when she steps away from him, "I'm going to bed," she takes a seat on her unmade bed, "because you know, unless he haunts my nightmares, that's probably the safest place for me to be mentally and I'm so fucking tired right now."

"Erin-"

She lays back and pulls the covers up to her shoulders, "Goodnight Jay; I have work tomorrow," she turns her body away from him, choosing instead to face her window seat, "And you know what? Maybe if I'm lucky, my cases will guarantee my dad wins the re-election next year."

"Rixton doesn't know what he's talking about."

And with that, she's drawn back in. She sits up, knocking the covers off her body as she climbs off her bed to approach him, "Jay, why are you with me? Why do you want to be with me?"

This wasn't how his reunion with her was supposed to go. This wasn't how he pictured his night going. They're supposed to be in the bed together, if not having sex, then cuddling and sleeping.

"What do you mean?" He's confused, practically dumbfounded by her question.

She should know by now. She should know how much she means to him.

Erin sees the conflict behind his eyes; she notices the mental anguish and instead of delving into that territory, she focuses on expanding her current, unwarranted thoughts, "Rixton seems to think I have an ulterior motive to be with you. I wonder where he got that idea from and I'm starting to wonder do you have one? Famous rock star and known bad boy needs an image change, why not screw the first daughter? It'll certainly do the trick."

"You know you're more than just a screw to me."

"Did you tell all the women before me that? Were they all more than just a screw at one point?"

And when he doesn't answer fast enough, Erin snaps her fingers to draw back in his attention.

And that frustrated him; she should know. For someone not great at expressing their emotions, he's done his best to ensure she knew that she wasn't just a screw or another notch on his belt. She should know. He's done everything he could think of to show her that. It's all different with her; everything is different when it comes to her.

"I'm not entertaining this argument!" And now he was growing angry.

"Thank you, I got my answer." Erin maneuvers around him, silently walking to her closet and flicking on the light. She glances around at her wardrobe and with how busy she is she hasn't had a chance to do laundry. Unless she wanted to wear sweats to work for the next few days, she needed to do it and fast.

Erin holds her hamper and drags it out of the closet, "And where are you going?"

"Away from you," she mutters, setting her hamper down near her bedroom door.

"You're about to go sleep in one of your many guestrooms?" His tone is mocking; it's far from serious and curious. He knows the answer to that and even if she wanted to, she would have to kick someone out because each room is taken. And he knows her good enough to know that she would never do that; she's far from selfish and she's too kind-hearted to even think of doing it.

Erin doesn't answer his question. It's a waste of breath and it'll only lead them to arguing more. Instead, she grabs a pair of shoes for tomorrow –flats because her feet cannot handle another day in heels- and then she opens her bedroom door and carries the shoes and her hamper out into the hallway. The same hallway that towards the right is the front door and towards the left is the living room, the same room that his staff and bandmates stand in, watching her. They heard.

Kim is bold enough to approach. She's brave enough to reach her hand out and she's strong enough to accept the rejection. She's too persistent for her own good and doesn't give up.

"Erin, we're sorry."

"…because I value our friendship," Erin speaks carefully and chooses her words wisely, "I'm not going to tell you what I think of your apology. I'm just going to go." And she does just that, ignoring the looks from every person in the room.

Erin balances the laundry basket on her hip and sets her flats on top of the heap of clothing so she's able to open the door. She hears Jay step out of her bedroom and a part of her waits for him to try to stop her, but he doesn't. Instead, he's holding a blanket and a pillow from the linen closet and goes over to her couch with every intention of sleeping there instead. She steps outside and pulls the door shut before turning around and being met with the restrained expressions planted on her guards' faces, "What are you doing here? You should be at home."

She makes her way through them as Roman answers, "We heard some of the argument you had with that guy. We figured we should stay a little longer. And Capp called; he's running a little late so we have to stay until he gets here." Too protective and by the book. She would have been fine for an hour without any protection.

"Rixton would never hurt me."

Dawson takes the basket out of her hands, "I beg to differ." And she knows he isn't referring to Rixton physically hurting her; he's referring to him emotionally hurting her.

"Where do you think you're going?" Atwater found himself asking the second she presses the down button to request the elevator.

"I was planning on going to the White House. I need a place to crash."

"This is your house," Sorensen argued.

"And it would be rude of me to kick them out because I can't stand to see their faces."

Atwater throws his arm around her shoulders and walks with her inside of the elevator, "And that's the Erin that guy refuses to see."

Her guards load in and wait for the doors to shut. She's well aware of their shift being over and she knows that Capp is running behind schedule but technically they were off the clock. The second the elevator doors opened and she stepped out after two of her guards, she voiced a concern that had just crossed her mind, "Are you guys going to take me or am I going to have to walk the mile on Pennsylvania Avenue, holding a basket of dirty laundry with a pair of flats sitting on top in the middle of the night?"

It was Sorensen who chuckled just as he pulled out his cell, "Let me call in ahead so the guards at the front gate can expect us."

"Oh, and make sure they don't wake my parents. The last thing I need is an interrogation."

She voices it yet she knows it'll come the second her parents wake in the morning and find out she had stayed overnight and their laundry staff had washed her clothes and that last part makes it all worth it because she hates doing laundry. She knows her clothes will be clean and folded by the time she wakes up in the morning. Regardless of what time she comes in -it's now past one in the morning- she knows it'll be done. They had a way of working effortlessly and swiftly through the night.

The lobby of the condo is empty except for the building's security that is spaced out around the premises. She's thankful for that. She doesn't need photos taken and speculation put out as to why she's leaving her place with a basket of dirty laundry at one in the morning.

Erin climbs into the backseat as Dawson sets her basket of clothes in the back. Her guards file in and she watches in silence as the space between she and her condo expands. She appreciates the men in front of her for a moment, catching the eye of Atwater and then Roman before breathing out, "I love you guys and tomorrow I'll just take a guard or two from the house so you guys can have the day off. You deserve it."

"You want us to just drop you off and ditch you for a day?" It's Dawson who responds with humor in his voice.

"Well this is the safest place I can be," she had a point and she continues while she's on a roll, "and you guys have been more than amazing, doing more than is required of you and you deserve a few days off, with pay might I add, and I won't count it as your vacation days. I know that since I feel like I'm five minutes away from passing out, that it must be double for you guys. I know that you deserve it and I can be pretty selfish and keep you guys away from your family by traveling at the last minute to visit my boyfriend for a couple of days and you guys have been good sports about it and I just want to say thank you." She does it because they're her family –at least she considers them to be- they're her friends and in the last eleven years she has known them, they've become a part of her and they've carved out a space in her heart reserved just for them. They've seen her and helped her through her worst and they've been proud of her at her best. She's always felt like her circle was small, how she didn't have many loved ones and friends in comparison to others, but as she looks at her guys, she knows that even if her father doesn't get re-elected, even if next year is their last year guarding her and seeing her almost every single day, that they'll stay in each other's lives and no future first-child/secret-service relationship was ever going to measure up to theirs.


	32. Don't Walk Out

Halstead was alone when he returned to her condo. Her guards were posted up outside so he knew she was home. Neither put up a complaint or a fuss when he made his way through them, choosing instead to stay out of the couple's quarrel while they worked through their issues. Jay had left his band at the hotel, a hotel much further than the arena in Baltimore since Will had to scramble to find the first one with enough available rooms to rent. It was by Jay's request. He didn't want Erin walking out, feeling as if she couldn't return home because her house had been raided by his friends. After the first night, Will set out to book rooms while Natalie and Kim straightened up the place to get it back to how it was when they first arrived.

Jay felt guilty. He felt absolutely horrible about their fight last night. He had sent Atwater a message and he found out that she was staying with her parents for the night and was going to have a long day the next day because she still had to work. Later in the afternoon he's surprised to find out that she was sent home by her boss to get some rest and Jay realizes that Peter Mills may not be as bad or as selfish as he had originally thought.

Once he entered her condo, he shut the door as quietly as possible. He took his time walking down the hallway, choosing instead to take in every single detail of the hallway in an effort to prolong the inevitable conversation that is to come. He didn't want to startle her as he approached, "Erin," he gently called out but was met with no response, "Er, baby, I'm-" he doesn't finish his statement because he sees her the second he walks into the living room. There's a fire lit in the electric fireplace keeping the room warmer than usual. It emits a comforting glow upon the room since the curtains are closed and her lights are out.

When his eyes finally landed on Erin's small form, his heart immediately sank. She was curled up in the corner of the couch, fast asleep, with a white, fleece blanket thrown over her waist. But, it was her red, puffy, dry eyes that caught his attention the most. She had been crying. He hated to see her cry; he hated it even more that he was probably one of the reasons for the tears.

Jay dropped down to his knees in front of her sleeping form, running the back of his knuckles gently down the side of her face to coax her awake, "Baby." He leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers, "Baby," his voice is gentle; it's never sounded so calm, "Baby." Her eyes flutter open and her hazel orbs meet his and he grins, "I love you more than you will ever know."

It was a pleasant way to wake up. His kind words in combination with the look of love on his face had her heart beating at a rapid rate; she couldn't stay mad at him. She forgave him instantly. She loved him just as much after all and when the smile stretched across her face, he knew that bygones were bygones. She smiled and he felt the courage and the strength and the willpower to continue, "Don't walk out anymore, Erin. This is your place. If me or one of my idiot friends piss you off or make you uncomfortable then kick them out. I'm the biggest imbecile on this planet and I should have known better than to bring Rixton of all people to-"

"Hey," she cuts him off; her hand reached forward to caress the side of his face, "I love you just as much and I don't like when people speak badly about my boyfriend and that includes when it's you who is doing the speaking."

He leaned forward to kiss her again, "And I'm so sorry."

"I already forgave you," she replied

"I know but I seem to not be able to say it enough; I'm sorry," he said it for what felt like the millionth time, "I'll do better."

Her macho man; so hard on the outside but so vulnerable and desperate for approval on the inside. She tossed the blanket to the side of the couch and sat up faster than he could blink and before he could figure out what she was doing, she had her arms wrapped around him. She was holding him tight, practically squeezing his hard body against hers.

"You are better, Jay," she whispered into his ear.

And he rose back to his feet, pulling her up with him. His own arms circled around her waist, holding onto her as if she was the one to keep him afloat. He buried his face into the crook of her neck and mumbled his next words softly, "I've missed this."

"I can't stand the distance. I read that it's supposed to get easier."

He pulls away only to look into her eyes, "After Baltimore, I have two more concerts left."

"And then what?"

"I'll have some free time to finish writing albums until I'm needed in the studio, but that's not until January. The concert is scheduled to end in November; that's next month, Er."

"Are you going back to Chicago afterwards?"

"Yeah, but I was hoping you joined me," Jay soothed, pulling her back into his arms, "remember we have the awards show in November. The tour ends two weeks before the ceremony."

"I can't take off for two weeks in a row, but maybe I can work something out," her head fell against his chest, "I didn't work today and I took a day off a few weeks ago when I went to visit Abby." And this intrigues him.

"Who's Abby?"

She forgot to tell him. Damn it.

"She's uh…"

"Erin," he asked much more carefully, "who is Abby?"

"She was the girl who lied about sleeping with you," she murmured against his chest.

"She retracted her statement," he whispered aloud to no one in particular, "and that wasn't just by some random luck of the draw. You found out her identity. You visited her."

"I did, but you knew the plan," she nods slowly; she doesn't know how he'll respond.

He felt the corners of his lips turn up, "You traveled to see her to defend me?"

"Of course I did," Erin withdrew herself from his arms, "I told you I don't like people talking bad about the people that I love and care about and I need you to stop acting so surprised when you find out that you're included in that category."

Jay stood by his words from weeks ago; she had a way with words. It's like she always knew the right thing to say. It's something she has definitely mastered and it's one of her best qualities. It was an absolute turn-on. And Jay couldn't contain himself when his hands started reaching out to settle upon her hips. When he speaks, the tone of his voice is a low, seductive growl as he delivered the command, "Take off your clothes," the smirk on his face grew when she followed his order, "I've wanted to bury myself in you since the moment you walked in the other night."

"Then you're going to need to shed some of those clothes yourself…" she flirtatiously replied.

He was moving too slow in her opinion. So, Erin took it upon herself to help. She made quick work divesting Jay of his clothing, "Sit down." And now it's her making the orders and him who is doing what was commanded of him.

"I love it when you're like this," he replied and stepped out of her embrace to set himself down on her sofa. And once he's seated, Erin wasted no time. She sat down onto his lap and molded her lips to his, feeling and hearing him mumble, "Someone's impatient."

Erin threw her head back to laugh and he took full advantage of the position to trail kisses down her neck. She ended up straddling him in the middle of her living room, knees on either side of his hips with her fingers anchored in his hair as the fire from the fireplace behind her kept their naked bodies warm.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he mumbled between kisses, "so beautiful and all mine."

"All yours," she proclaimed, watching as his hands twitched at his sides with the desire to reach out and touch her bare skin; he wanted to touch and caress her all over more desperately, "I will always be all yours." And the second his hands fell to her thighs, rubbing his calloused hands against her smooth, creamy white skin, they both knew it wouldn't be too long before he was inside of her and bringing them both to a euphoric bliss.

She heard the moan that came out of his head and ducked her head, slanted her lips across his and then he did something with his tongue, something new, something unexpected. This was different. This was welcomed. She kept kissing him. And he kept doing it. She missed him and he missed her. This distance had to come to an end soon. They didn't how they'll be able to say goodbye again and wait it out for another two to three weeks.

With Erin settled on his lap, grinding torturously slow over his aching length, not allowing him to easily slide himself home, they exchanged frantically passionate and fervent kisses at one another's lips with a chaotic dance of their tongues. Hands wandered chaotically over their horny bodies, and fingers disheveled their hair as they buried their fingers within each other's messy strands. When they finally focused themselves enough to allow him to slide into her slick core, every person in the building could probably hear the combined moan and whimper that echoed between them. He shut his eyes for a brief second before reopening them, "How did I get so lucky," he whispered, wrapping his arms around her tightly as she began to rock above him.

"Jay," she moaned immediately, rocking her hips against his and leaning down towards his ear to finish her thought, "You don't see what I see but you're perfect to me and you're perfect for me and I love you so much for it," Erin panted; she had a shortness of breath, "and I'm the luckiest girl in the world because I get all of this to myself," she teased, arching her back and pressing her chest against his as she thrusted down upon him even faster.

She always had a way with words.

Jay let her set the pace, enjoying how she used his body to get her pleasure. He peppered her chest with kisses as she controlled the sensations and feelings coursing through them. As their pace quickened, Erin gripped his shoulders, squeezing so hard that she'll probably leave bruises. The only noise heard is the sound of slapping skin, ragged breaths, filthy utterances and sweet pleas as they chased and approached their release. She released his shoulders and brushed her thumb across his cheek while her other hand stroked the back of his head; they stared into each other's eyes, finding a connection and latching onto it as they rode through their release.

Erin collapsed against his chest, their breaths and heartbeats harmonizing as one as Jay wrapped his arms around her and held her tight, burying his face in the crook of her neck. He made no attempt to let her go. If anything he held her tighter. He made no move to release her from his grip, to pull his flaccid member from within her. The sight itself, the sight of his heavy length disappearing within her started to harden him back up. He couldn't look. Instead, Jay looked up to meet her eyes to find her looking down at where he just looked away from.

"You are the best thing that has ever happened to me," he softly declared, lifting her head to meet his gaze, "And God woman when I'm with you I get so vulnerable in my emotions and you don't even know how much I fucking love you. You own the key to my heart and you have so much power over me that it scares me and sometimes I want to run," Jay pressed a tender kiss to her lips, pausing mid-declaration to bask in the warmth of her lips, "I love you more than life itself and I know that the decisions I've made in life are questionable but I must have done something right if karma gave me you."

This man had a way with words. This man could raise her up and tear her down with one look and one whisper of his true emotions. And she felt something stir inside of her knowing that no one has ever been privy to this side of him. Many women may have gotten a taste of him physically, but no one has ever gotten a taste of him mentally and emotionally. His heart, his body and his inner thoughts were all hers.

And she was speechless by it all.

A man, who only months ago, was shutting down on her because he felt she made him vulnerable and he was afraid to embrace that part of him. A man, who only months ago, admitted his love for her and then turned her away because he felt like she was changing him and he didn't like it. A man, who has known bad boy tendencies for his entire life, was pushing them away and fighting against the natural urges and instincts to be with her.

This man was her everything.

And for someone who has always been good with her words, in this particular instance, he had her beat because no words she could think of or express would compare to the weight of his.

All she could do was _show_ him how much it meant, _show_ him what his words mean and _show_ him that everything he said was felt mutually between the two of them. God, she loved this man.

And in a rush of heated passion she leaned forward and practically attacked his mouth with her own. Kissing him with every ounce of passion as his hands wandered her warm body, the warmth of her body provided only by him, warmth that's his. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her breasts against his chest. Her breasts moved against his flat one, creating a passionate friction that was going to need to be taken care of soon. Her fingers roamed through his now untamed hair, her lips moved sloppily against his as their tongues did an uncoordinated dance with one another. And this action, in combination with each other, is what caused Jay to come alive when he felt his length completely harden within her. It took only a moment, less than a second for Erin to realize where this was heading; it was going towards a round two. Wrapped in each other's loving embrace, her knees are softened by the couch cushions and with his hands on her hips; he began to move up only to use his hands to guide her along his length. Still on the high from their first round, he immediately started to pick up the pace. She moaned and it was cut off abruptly when she turned her eyes from Jay and looked over to see who had opened her front door. Only a few seconds into their euphoric bliss was the moment ruined when they heard the sound of high heels click-clacking against the hardwood floor.

They didn't have a chance to get up because every part of them would be revealed.

They didn't have enough time to get dressed.

Their clothes were tossed in different directions, sitting too far away to be reached.

With Erin still on his lap, his member still erect inside of her, he reached to the side to grab the fleece blanket she had used for her nap. He immediately draped it around her shoulders to shield her naked form just as she reached for the cream colored throw pillows to use in an effort to block his body from the intruder's eyes. After ensuring their most sensitive and private areas are covered by the blanket and the square throw pillows, the living room light flicked on and her mother –the first lady- Camille Voight froze under the threshold.

"Mom," Erin immediately shouted as Jay turned his head to bury it in her hair, shielding his face from the wide eyes of his girlfriend's mother, "Haven't you heard of knocking?!"

Camille was frozen in place, mouth agape and staring in shock. The pink tinge on her face was quickly darkening to an embarrassing shade of tomato-red. She was unable to blink let alone respond to her daughter's chastise. Her voice came out much higher than its normal octave, "Oh, um, sorry, sorry, I am so sorry, so sorry!"

The room was eerily silent as they heard the heels of Camille's shoes pitter patter down the hallway before being followed by the eventual sound of the front door closing. She made a mental reminder to take the key back from her mother; she obviously didn't know how to use it.

Erin now buries her face in the crook of his neck, feeling the embarrassment grow with every second that passes. She was red, not as red as her mother, but red nonetheless. Her eyes closed when she felt his hands circle her waist, clenching her as he slid himself out.

"What," she breathlessly whispered as she looks up, "What are you doing?"

"The mood is ruined, don't you think?" He lifts her up and sets her down carefully beside him. Both of them watch as his no longer erect member hangs limp. Yeah, her mother killed the mood. The mood was gone indefinitely…or at least until they can get the image out of their head. Her mother, Hank Voight's wife, the first lady, a woman of power and prestige had walked in on bad boy, rock star Jay Halstead buried deep, up to the hilt, inside her daughter.

Oh god, he's never going to live this down. And if she tells her husband, Erin's father, the fucking leader of the free world then he might as well end this now and disappear.

"Babe," he blinks out of his reverie and he hadn't even realized that he got up and started pacing; he was worried and she thought it was absolutely adorable, "you want me to take your mind off of what happened?" He did; he desperately did, but not that way.

And she picked up on it –no sex for right now. She smirked and walked away, naked and swaying her hips as she disappeared into her bedroom and reappeared with his guitar in hand. No one touches it; no one can touch it but her. And she hands it to him before walking over to sit in front of the fireplace, "Come sit," she pats the spot beside her, "and play me something."

"I thought you were going to take my mind off of it."

Erin chuckled just as he collected his guitar from her hands and took a seat beside her, "I don't have a creative bone in my body."

"You played piano," he argued, strumming his fingers until he found a soft melody. He was going to play her a new song he had written.

"I played piano for two years when I was a kid. I'm far from the next Chopin or Beethoven."

Jay smirked at that, setting his guitar down, "Come here then," he used his pointer finger to motion for her to crawl over. And she does what's asked of her. She sits in his embrace, his arms around her, the guitar is in her lap now and he's patiently teaching her how to play a note on the guitar and it's more domestic and romantic than she thought it would be. She's naked, in his lap while he teaches her the first few notes of a song and unbeknownst to her, it's her song. And that by itself displays levels of love and romance that neither one of them is emotionally prepared to handle. She's naked. He's naked. Her back against his chest; her legs folded, crisscross as she sits between his open ones and his hands are covering hers as he uses her delicate fingers to orchestrate the melody that was designed with her in mind.

As his hands guided her fingers, he started to hum. With his eyes closed, he doesn't notice that she's no longer playing; her hands are no longer beneath his. He's unknowingly taken control and he's playing her song while she leans back with the back of her head against his shoulder. She turns her face and presses the softest of kisses against his neck and now that it's gone, she misses the scruff from his beard. She closes her eyes and rocks side to side in his arms; he rocks with her until he starts to belt out the lyrics to her song. And she listens, taking in each word as the meaning behind them melts her heart.

-x-

Out of the four concerts she attended in total, Baltimore had to be her favorite one for a multitude of reasons: proximity to her home, her close-up seat in the arena, the delicious food being at the venue, the music, the cheers, the love and the fact that for some unknown reason paparazzi were not waiting outside the building for them when they arrived. This was great.

The only complaint was that it ended far too soon, way before she was ready. But, even though the concert was over didn't mean the night had to end. At least that's what Kim told her the second she grabbed her hand and pulled her out the back exit of the arena and into the back seat of an Uber. Her guards were following in their government issued truck. And instead of riding comfortably with them, she was crammed inside of a van belonging to a mother of five. The woman was shocked to find when she accepted an Uber request; it was from the wife of the District 21's drummer and she was even more surprised when they all climbed inside. Rixton in the front passenger seat, Mouse, Ruzek and Halstead sitting in the middle row and Erin and Burgess seated in the back, cramped row of the minivan. And since Erin was petite, thin and short, she was the unlucky person who had to embarrassingly sit in the woman's child's booster seat. Jay couldn't pass up taking a picture or two and after a few casual threats, he promised her that it would be for his eyes only; he had no intent of posting it to social media.

"Ms. Voight, it's an honor to be driving you around," the woman repeated when Erin didn't hear her the first time, "I voted for your father in the first election and I have every intention on voting for him in the second."

Erin grinned, "Thank you." And her face felt permanently red because she felt like an idiot sitting in a booster seat designed for children aged four to six.

"I actually wanted to discuss my concern in regards to access to health care for people with pre-existing conditions," and as the woman goes into discussing her thirteen year daughter who was diagnosed with asthma and epilepsy and Erin offers her input, advice and guidance, Ruzek found himself laughing hysterically until Mouse elbowed him in the ribcage.

"Thank you Mouse," Kim cheered from the backseat, "because if I was up there I would have hit him myself! Gosh Adam you can be such an asshole!"

"I wasn't laughing at her story," Ruzek shouted in defense, rubbing his abdomen, "I was laughing at Erin because it's so hard to take her serious while she's sitting in a child's booster seat," he started laughing all over again and this time everyone, including their driver laughs too.

"I wish I had room in the trunk to put it, Ms. Voight," the woman casually apologized.

"It's alright," Erin waves it off, "my butt is starting to get numb to it anyway."

The band –and their significant others- chose to go out at the last minute. The decision was made –even though Erin didn't know about it until Kim was dragging her out of the arena- during intermission to tell her. Unsurprisingly, it was Rixton's idea after a fan at a meet and greet invited him to her recently opened nightclub and offered him and whoever he pleases VIP access. He had forgotten about it until he found her business card, including the address to her nightclub, in his jacket. Will and Natalie decided to stay at the venue along with the rest of their staff to close up set, sign the necessary paperwork and prepare everything for their departure tomorrow. Staff members carefully carried their instruments to the tour bus, which is parked in the back of the arena, in preparation for their departure to New York City tomorrow afternoon. And after that they'll be heading to Boston, Massachusetts. Two to three weeks of the tour left and the band members and staff could finally relax before they had to start working again.

The Uber driver, a woman who appeared to be in her late-thirties talked the entire time about how her five kids were huge fans of the band's music. She mentioned how her oldest –a seventeen year old boy- plays the guitar and the drums and he used to want to start his own band until he realized that when it comes to the entertainment industry, the chances of success were slim to none. And Mouse unsurprisingly held his hand out for her phone and she directed Rixton to grab it out of her cup holder to pass it back. He quickly put his number in her cell and handed it back to Kenny, "Tell your son to text or call me and the next time I come to Maryland with my manager, we'll come to pay you guys a visit. That's if he's serious."

She nodded quickly; she was completely speechless, "I'll…I'll let him know. Oh, thank you!"

And as the Uber pulled up in front of a nightclub, Erin realized that this is another reason why she loved this city so much. It showed her the heart of the band. It gave her a glimpse of them outside of performing on stage. She saw a piece of Rixton, a part of him that smiled at the woman and gave her kind words along the line of with Mouse in your corner, her son will definitely overcome the statistics. A part of her wanted the ride to take longer and considering that she's sitting in a child's booster seat, it says a lot about the company she is surrounded by. She lifts herself briefly and then sits back down, leaning to one cheek and then the other as the driver navigated through the city traffic in an effort to figure out where to let them off.

"You okay?" Kim quirked a brow when she witnessed Erin shift for the umpteenth time.

"Just dandy," she said through gritted teeth when she spotted the amused expression on her face.

It was going to be her first time clubbing with the entire band. She was going to be in their natural habitat, the habitat that Burgess briefed her on during the route to the club. It was in a whisper to ensure the guys didn't hear, but she briefed her on it nonetheless. Personas were going to come out. An influx of money was going to be spent. Names will regularly be dropped. Girls will flirt and they will flirt back. Dancing will occur that involves an eager and obnoxious amount of touching and grouping. Physical fights may break out, never between band members, but between fans who craved for their attention. Burgess told her to not take it personal. It'll happen but it's wise to remember that Jay loves her and will be leaving with her. It's what she tells herself about Ruzek. It's a persona; they're sex icons and a part of their image comes from giving off the impression that they're available even though they're not.

Erin was going to be tired tomorrow morning when she had to report to the Airforce Base in Maryland in order to board Air Force One. Since her mother couldn't make it because of prearranged schedules, she had hopped on board to spend a week in the UK with her father. They were set to depart at six in the morning to take off for Wales. Her itinerary was starting to pile up; a week in the United Kingdom, a fundraising gala, a charity dinner and then the awards show for her boyfriend in late November. And between all of that she had to keep up on her work.

Regardless of how busy her schedule is, she's going to enjoy this night. She's going to make the most of it and the last few hours she had with her boyfriend.

The driver decided to park behind the club so her vehicle isn't swarmed with people trying to take pictures, ask questions and touch the band members. Erin's guards were grateful for that; it gave them an opportunity to get their bearings together before venturing into chaos. Erin could hear the music from inside blaring through the dark night; she could practically hear the vibrations under her feet. She opened her clutch and grabbed a few bills out of it before reclosing it and handing it to Roman, "Can you put this back in the truck? I don't want to carry anything with me," she tucked the bills in her bra just as he hid her clutch in the glove compartment.

While Erin didn't know that she was going clubbing after the concert, fortunately enough her outfit worked for both scenes. Erin stood poised in a black crop top, black high-waist leggings, a nude leather jacket and nude heels to match the ensemble. The crop top is cut short, revealing her lower stomach; her high-waist leggings sit and stretch high above her hips, a few inches above her navel, leaving only a small gap between the top of her tight fitting leggings and the bottom of her crop top. Her hair was brushed to the right and fell in waves over her right shoulder. The gold hoop earrings in her ears matched the bracelets on her left wrist. Her toes, now painted a maroon brown, matched her painted nails and lipstick. If you ask Jay, she was by the very definition of hot and he didn't mind reminding her.

"I can't wait to get you to your place," he whispered seductively as she looped her arms around his neck to pull him down for a kiss, "and get you out of these clothes," he spoke against her lips.

"Is that so?"

"Yeah," he smiled, squeezing her waist a little tighter, "and I think you deserve a butt massage."

"Then we should head on inside. The sooner we start the night, the sooner we'll finish it."

"Beauty and brains," Jay asserted, leaning down one last time and pressing his lips against hers tenderly, gently teasing them open with his tongue until he felt a tap on his shoulder.

It was Mouse who had tapped on his shoulder and it was only to point out a couple capturing photos of them making out behind the club. Reluctantly, he pulled back and intertwined his fingers with hers. Since Rixton was the man initially invited, he led the group towards the front of the building; the music grew louder with each step and the line outside of the club grew longer with each passing second. And as more and more people in line noticed them and started taking pictures and posting it to social media with the location of the club attached, the line will only inevitably start to grow longer throughout the night. Rixton led them straight to the door and the club's bouncer silently unclipped the rope and allowed them to enter without much fuss. Their names weren't given and he didn't ask for their identification; he had been expecting them.

Erin walked inside in front of Jay but his hand remained pressed against her lower back in an effort to keep her close. It was loud inside. Lights were flashing and there were so many people around so it wouldn't be hard to lose each other. Her guards will start to post up the second they know the location of VIP and the table where they will occupy. Rixton circled his hands around his mouth in an effort to broadcast his voice louder, "It's this way!"

Kim held the hand of her husband as Ruzek pulled her along, following closely behind Rixton as they moved past the bar, past the dancefloor and the crowd of people who were slowly starting to recognize them and up the lighted stairway to sit in the VIP area that overlooked the entire downstairs portion of the club. VIP access was blocked by two club bouncers and similar to the bouncer outside; they simply unhooked the rope to allow them to step in. On the center table, positioned on a platform raised a few feet above the ground is a semi-circular booth with a reserved note folded on top. The band's name is written across and the second Erin's guys realize that this will be the main location of the night for the group, they fan out. Atwater stands by the table, Roman moves to stand near the railing overlooking the dancefloor and bar area, Dawson goes to take a seat at the end of the bar and Sorensen sits near the hallway that leads to and from the bathrooms. It was going to be a long night but they were clocking in overtime.

Erin slipped into the booth after Burgess and scooted over to leave Halstead enough room to sit.

"How much do you love me?" Erin asked all of a sudden and Jay immediately knew that she wanted something from him.

His tone is suspicious, "Why?"

"Do you love me enough to get me a drink?"

"Actually," it's the first time Rixton has spoken to her that wasn't an insult or a defensive comment, "VIP has wait staff," he raises his finger in the air until a waiter approached, "Now while he takes you ladies' order, I promised the owner that the band and I would stop by to give her our thanks and appreciation."

Erin held up her cell phone and leaned towards her boyfriend to press the simplest of kisses against his lips. She tapped the center button and captured the shot and against Jay's wishes, she pulled away. The grin on her face was wide as she glanced down at the photo that will now become the background image for her cell. She felt good. She felt bold. Bold enough to load up one of her social media apps and post the picture; bold enough to type out a caption beneath it before clicking over to another app in order to do the exact same thing. She tagged him in it. And she waited and watched as he reached into his pocket for his vibrating cell phone. She patiently observed him as he typed in his code in order to gain access; she witnessed the smile that grew on his face at the sight of the background photo on his cell –one of them taken in Miami. And finally she watched as he loaded up one of his many apps and took in the sight of the photo she had recently taken. His eyes scanned the caption beneath it.

 _Borrowing a kiss ;)_

And that photo alone was going to drive his fans, her fans, the public and the country out of their minds. She steered clear of posting pictures that hinted towards their relationship. In the six months they've been dating, she's only posted one that was geared towards their committed relationship. He has posted many. None of them mid lip-lock, but it was romantic photos nonetheless. His girl was growing bolder with each passing day.

Jay's arm is around her shoulders when he turns his head to face her, bringing his lips near her ear so she can hear him over the music, "Will you be here when I get back?"

"Probably not," she answers before diverting her attention to the waiter to place her order.

"Come on, we should be like ten maybe fifteen minutes," Rixton speaks in such a flat tone that suggests he's trying to hide his annoyance.

An annoyance that everyone picks up on except for Halstead since the latter is so wrapped up in his girlfriend. His fingers gently stroke her shoulder, "…just give me a minute," he briefly turns to respond and then turns back to bury his face into the crook of her neck, "God woman you smell amazing." He absolutely cannot stop looking at her. He cannot stop touching her, smelling her, kissing her and just…all around consuming himself with her. His lips brushed smoothly along her clavicle, tickling her sensitive skin, "You smell divine," he pressed a hard kiss against her collarbone, "but I bet you taste even better."

Her sparkling eyes glimmered under the flashing neon lights, "You have a way with words."

"That's why I'm the writer," his pearly white, straight teeth stretched into a wide open grin.

"Halstead, come on," Rixton interrupted, tapping his foot impatiently and Jay simply took his time, pressing a feather-light kiss against the skin beneath her ear; the smell of her fragrant perfume filled his lungs just as he placed another kiss, "Jay, come on man."

"I didn't come here to work or kiss ass!"

"Babe," Erin scolded, slapping his chest with the palm of her left hand.

"…unless it's your ass," his words sent a shiver through her spine, but Erin had to be strong. She had to fight the temptation, the attraction and every magnetic pull that pushed her towards him.

"Babe," Erin gently gripped his chin with her hand; "go. And if I'm not here when you get back," she presses a quick peck against his lips, "then come find me."

It was a challenge; one that he's definitely up to accomplish. To seal the deal of their challenge, he laid a kiss upon her lips, stealing her breath away in the seconds it took for Rixton to physically pull him away. She chuckled, watching her man get dragged away to get fussed over by the club's owner. Erin remained in her seat, nursing her glass of whiskey sour that the waiter had just served to her. She tipped him a fair amount afterwards.

"Now that the guys are gone," Burgess started to shout over the music, only pausing to sip her gin and tonic, "we should hit the dance floor!"

Erin had no complaints against that. She held her drink in her left hand and grabbed Kim's hand with her right before sliding and pulling the woman out of the booth. She said nothing to her guards, already knowing they were posted up and ready to watch her no matter where she went. Her nude heels carefully stepped down each lighted stair and the moment she came down to the last step, she felt Burgess ram into her from behind, "Shit. Sorry. Why'd you stop?"

The dance floor is unseen because the building is filled with wall-to-wall people and if a firefighter was here on official duty then they would definitely be giving the place a citation. It had to be double over the maximum occupancy. Maybe they should tell the owner since she's so keen on appearances and public figures?

"It's pretty crowded," her head nodded towards the dance floor, "how are we supposed to dance when there's no room? And what if we lose each other in the crowd? And how are my guys supposed to keep an eye on me if I disappear in the masses?"

Kim sensed her worry; she picked up on her sudden anxiety. As a result, she simply looped her arm through Erin's and led her towards the influx of people filling the dance floor. Her questions weren't answered and her concerns weren't addressed. Instead she's thrust into the crowd, slipping in alongside her friend. She's taken to the center of the floor, surrounded by so many people that as she starts to dance, she occasionally bumps into everyone dancing around her. She looks up to see Roman with his arms crossed over the railing, glancing down at her. She's comforted by that fact and after taking a gulp of her drink, she loosens up and starts to dance.

She becomes one with the music as she dances to the beat of it. She's one with the people around her, dancing wildly as if they had no worries in the world. Her eyes are closed. A few drops of her drink spills onto the dance floor mixing in with the liquid of the other drinks that have spilled around her. The music moves through her as she sways to the beat. There's so much sweat on her skin and she's not absolutely, positively, sure if all of it is hers. Burgess is in her own zone, jumping, pumping her fist, shaking her head side to side and twirling around, almost stepping on a stranger's foot in the process of her wild dance moves.

By the time the first two songs were over, their glasses were empty with half the contents being consumed and the other half either falling onto the floor or spilling onto their clothing. Both were having too much fun to care. And Erin honestly cannot remember the last time she let loose, the last time she didn't care about the people watching her and the last time she allowed herself to have this much fun. This was a moment to live in the present; she didn't take photos because the moment would go by. It was a time that couldn't be documented. A picture wouldn't do it justice. With the flashing neon lights, the DJ on stage working the turntables and the crowd dancing on and off beat, the atmosphere was filled with people ranging from early twenties to mid-thirties; it ranged from singles to those in committed relationships. It was an atmosphere that brought in people from different walks of life, different careers, different statuses, different sexual orientations, different races and different cultures and backgrounds. It brought them all together for a wild night and a good time.

Her empty glass disappeared on the tray of one of the waiters who happened to be walking through the overwhelmingly large group of clubbers. The music increased in volume and Erin knew that by the end of the night her ears were going to be ringing. The bass thumped in time with her heartbeat. She absolutely loved this song; it was one of District 21's hottest hits. And Jay wasn't here to appreciate the fact that the crowd screamed and danced even harder than they were before as many people shouted their love for this song. With both of her hands now free, she and Burgess danced harder; using each other as partners since both of their significant others were currently occupied. Erin and Kim held hands, twirling each other around, shaking their hips and singing along to the lyrics that are blasted through the speakers.

"Hello beautiful," the southern drawl from a man sporting an overused cowboy hat appeared at their side, "I saw you ladies were lacking in the drinks department," he extended the two beverages towards them and while Burgess grabbed hers, Erin didn't move for the other. He didn't appear too bothered by Erin not reaching for the beverage, instead he brings it up to his lips to take a sip before weaseling himself between the two women.

His back was facing Erin; his eyes were on Kim. He wanted her; that much was obvious. He pulled his cowboy hat off his hand and sat it down on top of Burgess' head, "There we go," he grinned; the dimple in his chin appeared, "now you're all cowgirl."

"Hey Kim, we should-"

"Kim is your name, I'm Ronnie," the guy interrupted.

Erin interjected, stepping in front of the guy, "We should get back upstairs. The guys might be looking for us and I doubt they'll be able to find us in this crowd."

"How about she meets you up there?" Ronnie suggested, his eyes darting from the upstairs level down to Erin's orbs, "…there's something I want to run by her."

"Go ahead, I'll wait." Erin stands firm, arms crossed over her chest. She wasn't dancing anymore. Neither were they so she wasn't the odd ball out. And she had no intention of leaving Burgess alone with this guy.

While Ronnie takes leisure sips of the drink in his hold, Kim has yet to take one. Smart girl, Erin thinks. Actually, the look on Kim's face was one of intrigue; she didn't appear to be completely put off by this guy. Erin took a quiet step back to allow Kim to speak up for herself; this wasn't her battle to fight and if her friend needed backup then she would be right there.

"What did you want to run by me?"

Ronnie eyed her up and down, "First, I just want you to know that you look amazing in that dress." And she did, Erin thought. "And I think it would be a dishonor to that outfit if we didn't get out of here." He's bold, Erin thinks, really bold.

"I'm married," Kim responds and all Erin can truly think is _finally_. Why even let him get that far? Her marital status should have been one of the first things she mentioned when he offered them free drinks. However, the man didn't appear to be put off about it.

"I won't tell if you don't."

"And that's enough," Erin interrupted once again, taking the drink from Kim's hand to put it back in his, "she's married and that's a clear and obvious no to what you're suggesting."

His eyes burned with a passion that was directed at Burgess, "I think the lady can speak for herself. So what do you say, Kim?"

"I'm married."

"…and that's technically not an answer." Ronnie was baiting her. And Erin was frustrated, absolutely peeved by her friend's lack of a firm answer.

"No," Kim asserts and once again all Erin thinks is _finally_ , "I'm married and I love my husband."

Erin nodded firmly and proudly beside her friend. She stood poised and confident like her mother taught her and her posture gave off the impression that she was going to jump in and defend her friend at the ready. She glanced up and saw not only Roman, but Atwater glancing down at her and with a firm nod of her head, they backed down. This was like college all over again. A pushy guy who didn't seem to understand the word no and offering drinks to unsuspecting women. If he didn't drink from the glass she made Kim return to him, Erin would have thought he drugged it. The guy, Ronnie, swallowed the remaining drops in his first glass before setting it on the tray of a waiter who walked past them.

"No," he repeated Kim's word as if it was foreign, as if he couldn't understand, but before he could process it further, his eyes flashed towards Erin and she prepared herself for him to attempt to ask her out, to be the rebound since he was shot down and rejected by Burgess, however that wasn't on his mind. He was looking at her for a different reason, and with a wicked grin on his lips, slurping up a few drops out of the second glass, he said, "You look familiar."

"I get that a lot," Erin asserted. Her voice was somewhere between resolute and nervous. So far no one recognized her, at least if they did, they didn't care. She didn't need this guy broadcasting her identity to everyone around her.

"Have we met before? Where do I know you from?"

And before his question could be answered or waved off by some excuse, Jay appeared behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and burying his face in the crook of her neck, "I found you. I never turn down or lose a challenge." He didn't notice Ronnie. And neither did Ruzek when he walked up to his wife, two glasses in his hand.

"I knew you would," Erin turned her head slightly to press her lips against his cheek.

"Who's your friend?" It was actually Adam who noticed him first. And it was also Adam who noticed the cowboy hat on top of his wife's head, "And where'd you get the hat?"

 _Shit_. Kim immediately removes it and hands it back to Ronnie. And Erin is left to believe that when Burgess grabs her husband's wrist and starts to pull him in the direction of the bathroom that she'll provide him with the answers to his question. Leaving Erin and Jay in the middle of the dance floor, the young couple sways slowly to the beat of a fast paced song. Erin turns in his arms and wraps her own around his neck, "You missed it. Your song came on."

"Which one?"

"Midnight," she whispered into his ear.

And his eyes lit up, "…your favorite song."

"My favorite song, indeed."

Jay had every intention of leaning in, of pressing his lips against hers when he noticed the tipsy swaying of the man beside them. The man who was the apparent owner of the cowboy hat Kim had been wearing. He was swaying unsteadily, accidentally bumping into people but it was when his drifting had caused him to bump into the young couple that Jay decided to speak up, "Watch it, man," and Jay was willing to let the man's uncoordinated movements go if he hadn't accidentally stomped on his toe, "For real," Halstead unintentionally pushed Erin away to turn and face him, "What's your deal?"

"Sorry man, that wasn't on purpose." And Ronnie was telling the truth; he's a worse dancer intoxicated than he is sober.

"And that's a sign that maybe we're due for another drink," Erin steps between her boyfriend and the guy who not so long ago was making passes at her friend. She doesn't wait around for him to agree; instead she takes his hand and yanks him away, away from the dance floor, away from the crowd and definitely away from Ronnie.

The second they're out of the congestion and near the stairs, he's throwing his arm around her shoulders, "Who was that guy?"

"I'm not sure but he has a thing for Kim."

Jay comes to an abrupt stop, an amused smirk playing at his face, "How did that go?"

"…probably would have went good if you guys didn't cock-block him," she jokes, earning a light smack on her behind the second she moves to climb the stairs, "but no, seriously the guy didn't care if she was married. He saw something he wanted and he went for it, but I think he was starting to get the message because he stopped being so arrogant."

"Did he recognize you?"

She felt him close behind her as the two of them climbed the stairs together, "I feel like he was going to recognize me eventually but fortunately enough my boyfriend approached."

"I've never been known for my impeccable timing."

"In this case," she stops mid-step to briefly turn around and peck his lips, "your timing was better than impeccable; it was perfect."

By the time they reach the top of the stair, they notice their friends spaced out. Rixton is sitting in a booth off to the side with three women on each side of him, catering to him with flirtatious smiles, kisses and light touches. Kim and Adam are in the opposite direction having what seems to be an intense conversation and Erin guesses it has everything to do with the cowboy downstairs who has most likely moved on from Kim's rejection. Mouse is nowhere to be found and Erin just assumes he's downstairs having a good time on the dance floor.

Jay takes a hold of his girlfriend's hand and walks with her back to their reserved booth. She slides in first and he follows, each of them scooting over to the center. His arm wraps around her shoulders and he draws her in, pressing his lips against her temple and holding it there.

"What was that for?" She asks the second he pulls his mouth away

"…just because."

And that was the simplest and sweetest answer she's ever heard. She turns her head and rests her face in the crook of his neck. Her lips occasionally press plenty of kisses against his neck as he whispers sweet nothings into her hair. Their cuddled together; her wrapped under his arm and turned inwards and him resting his face near her ear as he reminds her of just how beautiful, how perfect, how compassionate, how gorgeous, how considerate, how sincere, and so many other adjectives. She was his perfect fit and he had no problem reminding her of that.

"I just want to point out for the record," she whispers; her warm breath ghosting over the crevice in his neck, "that you also have a way with words."

His eyebrows waggled, "Yeah."

Heat pooled in her, "Oh, definitely," she resumes kissing him against his neck.

"You two are absolutely disgusting," Rixton asserted; the sound of his voice killed the mood.

"Shut up," Jay retorted; his finger beneath Erin's chin directed her lips towards his and he silenced his friend further by pressing his mouth against his girlfriend's opened mouth.

The kiss was ravenous. The kiss was everything for two people who couldn't keep their hands off of each other. What started off as a small kiss to prove a point turned into a hot make-out session that truly had him contemplating picking her up and carrying her to the hallway that leads to the restroom just to have a quickie against the wall. He had to contain himself. If he kept kissing her, open-mouths, tongue and all, then it would be nothing preventing him from dragging her on his lap and making good on their last night together. He had to pull away but there was something about the pout on her lips that brought him back, that had his fingers intertwining with the hair at the back of her head that made him deepen the kiss.

"Hot damn," Kim smirked as she slid into the booth from the opposite end.

Ruzek slid in after her, "Now that's how you keep a spark in the relationship."

"Keep the spark alive elsewhere," Rixton groaned, lowering his hand from blocking his eyes, "I would prefer not to be exposed to all of that."

At that Erin draws away from her boyfriend, peeling her eyes open as she collects her breath. Her face is flushed, her lips are swollen and her eyes are dilated. She runs her hand through her hair and smiles at the group as Mouse joins them, "Considering who else has been exposed to this, I really don't care about my best friend getting a glimpse."

This intrigues Kenny, "Who caught you guys making out?"

"Actually," Jay shakes his head and Erin really wishes he would stop talking, "we weren't caught _just_ making out," he emphasized that part just as humiliation overcame him, "we were caught butt ass naked having sex."

Each of his friends sits up straight, but it's Mouse who finds his voice first, "By whom?"

"…her mother!"

For a second, as everyone registers the enormity of what he just said, Jay waves over the waiter and orders himself a drink, a strong drink, but before Erin could find her voice to make it known that she wanted the same thing, the waiter had already walked away. She absolutely wanted to disappear or maybe just die on the spot. Everyone was eyeing her with wide eyes and open mouths; even two of her guards had heard the confession.

"I need a drink," she spat, cringing inwardly at the sight of amusement in Rixton's eyes.

"You can have half of mine." And that has to be the second sweetest thing Jay's said today because she really needs something to mask the embarrassment coursing through her.

It was a text message from Dawson that provided her a two minute escape as she withdrew her cell to read the note he'd sent to their group chat –a group chat consisting of her and her guards. It was a simple message, one that truly didn't need to be sent, informing them that he has to go move the truck because he parked in an area that becomes a tow zone after a certain hour. She looks at the time; it's near midnight and she had an early flight in the morning. She needed to leave soon if she was going to finish packing _and_ get a few hours of sleep in.

"When Mrs. Voight walked in on you guys, how exposed were you?"

"Both of us were naked, I was inside of her and we only had the throw pillows and a small blanket to cover us up," Jay admitted and she really wanted him to stop talking. He may not have gotten embarrassed as frequently or as easily as she did, but considering it was _her_ mother that caught them, she had every right to feel as she does. And if she recalled correctly, seconds after her mother left, she had wanted to finish things but it was him who was acting differently and weird at the thought of his girlfriend's mother walking in to find him pleasuring her daughter.

"That had to be hot," Rixton remarked, finding amusement at the look on Erin's face, "I mean…I've probably done stuff any and everywhere but never once did I get caught and never by one of their parents. You just gave me a new fantasy."

And now she was mortified and frozen to the cushion in the booth. She blinked back into focus and responded, "You're a pig." And when Jay's drink arrived, she reached for it first, gulping down half of its contents before sliding it over to her boyfriend, "We should get out of here," she whispered, shifting in her seat to face him, "I want this night to last as long as possible but I do have to be realistic and responsible here. I leave pretty early in the morning for a week and I honestly don't know what's on the itinerary but besides texting, I don't know any other way we'll be able to stay in contact." Phone and video calls would only be able to happen if they had a moment to themselves and considering that she's traveling with the president and Jay'll be extremely busy considering it's the last two weeks and it's filled with performances, interviews, autograph signings and a fan meet and greet that was definitely Will's idea.

Jay didn't let it worry him. It'll work out just like it always does. He swallowed the rest of his drink just as Dawson arrived. He slammed his empty glass down and sighed, "We'll figure it out," he began sliding out of the booth, "and we should get out of here before Rixton tells us more about this new fantasy of his." That was reason enough for her to follow.

"You two lovebirds have fun," Kenny teased as the couple walked away. And no one pointed out the fact that this was the one time they were all in each other's presence and neither Kenny nor Erin felt uncomfortable by the presence of the other or felt the need to insult the other or defend themselves. This night was a success.

Her guards regrouped at the top of the stairs, taking their position in front and behind the couple. The night was only getting started for most of the people in the club, but for them it was coming to an end. The lighted pathway on the staircase now blinked neon lights instead of staying a constant white. Hoots and hollers echoed around the crowd as a man took a body shot off of a woman lying on top of the bar. It was a wild night that will only get wilder. Her guards were happy to be leaving because it meant less work for them. The more the night got out of control, the more they had to be on guard when watching and protecting her.

Considering the heels that she's wearing, Erin would have probably fallen down if not for the arm of her boyfriend around her waist and his constant worrying, "Watch your step."

She chuckled, "This isn't my first time walking down the stairs, babe."

And he knows that, but when he looks at the height those heels provide her, he cannot help but to worry. She isn't drunk. She's not even tipsy. Yet, he still holds onto her as if he expects her to start stumbling and waddling out of the club. She doesn't mind too much; it gives him a reason to hold onto her even though he truly doesn't need one.

By the time they're outside of the club, neither of them are surprised by the mass arrival of the paparazzi. A part of her even wonders how long they've been waiting outside of the club for her or one of the band members to exit. Since they weren't allowed entrance, they had to be dedicated to their careers if they stood out there from the moment their arrival to the club was broadcasted on social media until now.

All of this would have been manageable if it was one or the other: paparazzi or fans. It was kind of hard to handle both at the same time. Women were screaming at the top of their lungs. The paparazzi were capturing photos with the flash on. Some fans were rushing over with pens and any piece of paper they could find in order to get an autograph. And other paparazzi were recording alongside the couple as they walked along the sidewalk towards her guards' truck. It was hard to walk straight when the light from their cameras kept blinding her; it was hard to hear the directions from her guards on where they parked when the shouting, squealing, begging and declarations of love were deafening her ears.

With her arm looped through his, she buried her face in his shoulder in an effort to give her eyes a break. Her vision was getting spotty. And she left her sunglasses. She trusted Jay to lead the way and she trusted her guards to guide them.

"Can I get your autograph?" This had to have been shouted at least a hundred times in the walk from the entrance of the club to the sidewalk.

"Oh my gosh, I love you Halstead! I love you so much." Well stand in line, Erin thinks. This had to have been the motto of his band's fan base. But, she couldn't blame any of them. She loved him too. She's a sucker for that.

"What do you have to say in regards to the retraction of the anonymous woman who said you cheated on Ms. Voight with her?"

And there it is. The paparazzi question is thrown in and mixed with the questions of his fans. At this, Erin pulls her head away from her boyfriend's shoulder and reopens her eyes, "Ignore them." She attempts to mutter without moving her lips much. Her arm is still looped through his and even though her body is no longer pressed against his side, she can still feel him tense up.

"They just want a reaction," she continues, leaning her head to the side to lay upon his shoulder, "and I'm pretty sure we're almost at the truck so just take a deep breath."

"Who is this woman? Did she retract her statement because of a pay off?"

Erin turned her head only to press a kiss against his shoulder, "Breathe," she can feel him follow her instructions as she guides him, "In…" he inhales, "out…" he exhales.

"Ms. Voight, what do you have to say about the allegations?"

"You leave her out of this," Jay snapped, coming to an abrupt stop to turn and face the paparazzi as they continued to approach, "You ask me questions. _Just me_. You leave her out of this."

"Come on babe," she whispers; her hand drifts down his forearm in order to intertwine with his fingers, "I see the truck right there."

She gives him a slight tug in the direction. Her guards up ahead and her guards following from behind move across the street with she and Jay in the center. The paparazzi and his fans continue to follow and if she didn't see it, she wouldn't have believed it, but there's more…more had shown up. There's a hoard of them. And they're all closing in even as her guards shout orders for them to remain a specific distance away. Jay tenses back up as he throws his arm around her shoulder, using his other hand to shield her eyes and shuffle her towards the back door of the truck, "Step back," he growls, feeling his anger and agitation grow the second their questions increase in volume, "I swear to god if you don't move away from her!"

Erin is pressed against his front now after he maneuvers her around in a way to shield her from their probing questions of topics related to his past, suspicion of his infidelity and even new rumors that are starting to circulate. His lips press against the back of her head in an effort to calm himself down. And it does just the trick as they approach the back of her guards' truck. He opens it and guides her inside, "Put your seat belt on, baby." He shuts the door.

And she waits for him to come inside, but instead, Atwater and Roman slide into the back seat while Dawson and Sorensen take their usual front seats. She slides over to the door and glances out the window, watching Jay shoo the crowd away from the truck granting Dawson enough space to pull out of the parking spot. And the second the truck is out, Jay walks back and climbs into the backseat, slamming the door shut the moment the crowd starts moving closer, "Shit," he's frustrated and pulls out his cell, "I'm going to text the guys a heads up about the crowd waiting outside. I swear," he leans his head back against the headrest, "I almost blew up, Erin."

"Yeah…but you didn't," she reaches over for his hand.

And he glances down at his buckled seat belt and her unbuckled one, "Is your seat belt on?" It's a rhetorical question, but she shrugs nonetheless, silently moving to strap herself in.

Jay sighs in relief the second she's safely buckled up. Even though the seats put a small –but what felt like big- distance between them, he still leans over –a bit uncomfortably- to throw his arm around her shoulder to pull her in. It stretches their seat belts to the max but neither seems to care. Erin lays her head upon his shoulder, trying to ignore the fact that in less than six hours she'll be on a plane heading off to another continent only putting more distance between them.

It's just a week. She'll only be gone for a little over a week. And he has two weeks left of his tour. In a little over one week, she'll be back in the country and at the end of the second week, she'll be flying to Chicago -or she'll be flying straight to Chicago from Europe she has to move some things around her schedule, to both spend time with him, but to also prepare for the awards ceremony and to attend a fundraising gala and a charity dinner –the latter is in Indianapolis but that's a three hour drive from Jay's penthouse. Only one week away and two weeks in total before she can have him all to herself. The countdown is on; the countdown begins. Their relationship just has to survive another 14 days.


	33. Missing You

Erin was startled awake when her father nudged her shoulder to inform her that the plane will be landing soon. She had slept the entire flight because the moment she had gotten back to her condo, she was all over her boyfriend the second the front door closed and locked. She had managed to pack a suitcase half an hour before she was supposed to be at the air force base in Maryland, boarding Air Force One and taking off for Wales. The second she landed in her seat and buckled her seat belt she was out. What was supposed to be a long eight hour flight felt much shorter since she slept throughout the entire trip –minus the two times she got up to use the restroom and the one time she got up to eat.

Her eyes fluttered open just as her father took a seat across from her. He's dressed in a tailored suit because the moment they land he has to meet with the First Minister of Wales. And as the plus one on her father's trip, she had to attend. She sits up straight the second the flight hits turbulence. It's raining outside and one of the things she hated the most was flying in the middle of a storm. Her fingers clenched around the armrests and her eyes glared across the table in front of her, towards her father who was reading a book. The pilot announced they would be landing in a half an hour; her dad could have let her sleep a little longer at least until they gotten through the storm.

Erin unbuckled her seat and stretched out. One of the biggest differences between Air Force One and a commercial plane was the amount of space available. It's a plane with three floors. And over the three floors, it holds offices, bedrooms, a conference room, a kitchen and thousands of square feet of cabin space. A bedroom was offered when she boarded the flight but at the time she had no intention of going to sleep. It wasn't until she pulled out a book, the sequel to Garrett Frazier's first book _Turning a Blind Eye_ , titled _Excuse my French_. She has every intention of lending it to Jay the second she's done because even though she's only read three chapters so far, it's already amazing. She still has Garrett's card; she'll have to make use of it.

Every aspect of the plane felt like it was designed for comfort. She's currently curled up in an armchair while her dad is comfortably seated on the sofa across from her. The staff floated throughout the cabin either doing their assigned job duty or resting up because their job technically doesn't start until they're off the plane. It was a grand space, a five-star grand space that provided plush treatment to its current residents. It was the image of upper-class, of arrogance at the highest value that would rightfully outrage every taxpayer.

Even though the plane offered a strong internet connection, she had turned her cell phone off with every intention of peacefully escaping. Now that she spent eight hours reading and sleeping, she didn't mind rejoining the world of the internet and social media. She turned her phone on and it automatically connected with the plane's Wi-Fi. She sat her phone down on the table in front of her as the notification pinged one after the other. Texting and social media notifications lit up her phone and the sound was so incessant that she was forced to silence it.

"You're pretty popular," her father said, flipping the page in the book he's reading. He didn't look up from the text, he simply kept reading. His comment didn't require a response. She merely shrugged her shoulders and reached forward to slide her cell off the table.

She had a text from her mother thanking her for the umpteenth time since she boarded the plane for taking her place and going with her father. She had a text from Justin hoping she didn't die of boredom as she sits through meetings, dinners, speeches and other events scheduled throughout the week. She had two messages from Kelly: one wishing her safe travels and telling her to text him to let him know she landed safe and the other has a screenshot attached to it. She opened it up and skimmed the headline: _First Daughter Hot Make-out Sess with Rockstar Boyfriend_. She clicked the link and even played the video, silencing the clip so her father didn't hear. Her face turned a darkened shade of red as she clicked out of the link.

"Trudy's going to kill me," she whispered, reopening Kelly's message. He's always felt the need to warn her when the headlines involved her name. He never wanted her to be caught off guard so he felt like it was his job to be in front of it before she was blinded.

Erin read the incoming text that had just been sent to her, _Make out sessions, Erin? Nice, -KS_

 _Funny; but I thought you steered clear of gossip sites, -EV_

 _That was before you've started making headlines every other day, -KS_

 _What should I do, -EV_

 _Why do you need to do anything, -KS_

… _maybe because there's a video of me lip locking with my boyfriend that's spreading around like wildfire and my father's up for re-election and the other party will jump at the chance to use that video against him, -EV_

 _Lip locking is the understatement of the century; there was way too much tongue involved to call it just a lip-lock, -KS_

 _You never answered my question, -EV_

And he may have been busy or thinking about an answer to her dilemma because he didn't respond as fast as he was responding before she asked. So, while she waited for a response, she checked the stream of messages sent to her from Jay. He was updating her on his time and apparently their Uber driver from last night made good on delivering the business card to her son because Mouse and Will had met with her teenage son and her husband. Erin is grinning from ear to ear as she reads the following messages. Apparently he had seen the headlines too, but he was more frustrated and agitated about the lack of privacy while she was nervous and worried.

 _I just don't get it, Er, we were in VIP, we were upstairs. Who managed to get that video, -JH_

Erin buckled her seat belt the second the pilot came over the intercom to announce they'll be landing in the next ten minutes. She lifted her cell once she was done to type out a response, _if I had to guess I would say it was someone on the wait staff, -EV_

 _Makes sense; besides us and your guards, they're the only ones who had access up there, -JH_

 _Don't do anything stupid, -EV_

 _Me? Never, -JH_

She chuckled at that. But, she also knew him. She knew how protective her boyfriend could be and while on any other day, she wouldn't have minded, she didn't need it this time. This time, she wanted to let the story go by without much fuss. She could do that. They could do that. It's not the first story and it won't be the last. And to be honest, it's not a rumor; it's true and it was caught on video. Their privacy was invaded and as a result a video was posted and the more she starts to think about it and consider the ramifications of it, she realizes that she does want Jay to do something, anything, because this isn't okay.

 _What did you do? –EV_

The bump of the airplane signaled that the wheels had landed on the ground. She sat her phone on her lap and glanced out of the window to see a wide expanse of land and the beautiful greenery, historic architecture and flowing rivers that was the country of Wales. She captured a photo from her window seat and sent it to her boyfriend just as his response came through.

 _I might have called up the owner of the club and had an intense conversation with her. She reassured me that she'll get down to the bottom of it and whoever posted it will be fired, -JH_

Leave it to her boyfriend to do something about a problem before she even knew a problem existed. She sent off a side text to Kelly, informing him that she doesn't need help solving the issue because Jay had already technically done it. Nothing else can be done because the video was already posted and sent and everyone knows that once something is on the internet, it will always be on the internet. The moment Erin sighs in relief and relaxes is the same moment that the next crisis arrives –this time, in the form of a text message from an unknown, unsaved number reading _I'm not playing, Erin, you're calling my bluff –Unknown_

And she knew, even without the number being saved in her phone that it came from Charlie. This was the first time he officially sent something, a warning, since he visited her in person. He didn't have her number so she knew that it must have been Annie who gave it to him. She pulled up her friend's contact and typed out a heated question – _DID YOU GHIVE CHARLIE MY PHONE NUMBER_ , -EV. Erin didn't even reread it to make sure everything was spelt correctly and her cell phone detected the wrath, ire and anger and refused to autocorrect her simple sentence, instead choosing to leave the H in the middle of the word give because the device probably wanted to stay out of the heated exchange.

She's absolutely fuming by the time her cell phone vibrates again. A part of her doesn't want to look because she already knows the answer to that question, but it seems as she reaches for her phone to pick it up, that part of her wasn't in control.

 _Yeah, I'm sorry. I meant to warn you but I got distracted with work and Travis. I caught him going through my phone the other day and that's how he got it, -Annie_

Erin intakes a large breath and holds it. Her hand tightens its hold around the device as she slowly releases the breath. She's angry and she might be irrational, unreasonable and she may even regret and apologize for this decision in the future but it doesn't stop her from lowercasing the alphabet on her phone and texting a simple reply, - _When I get back to the U.S. I am getting my number changed and when I do, do not ask for my new one, -EV_

She throws her phone somewhere across from her; it actually lands near her father and causes him -for the first time since she woke up- to look at her. His brow is raised and he folds the corner of the page before closing the book, "What's wrong?"

And Erin doesn't answer that. Instead, she unbuckles her seat belt, grabs her phone from beside him and walks away; she walks off to the nearest bedroom and slams the door behind her. The worry lines in her forehead appear as she starts to hyperventilate. Her hand presses against the wall as she uses it to hold up her weight. She walks over to the largest window in the plane and looks out to the countryside. All her mind keeps going to is the multitude of things that Charlie could possibly write about in a tell-all book: the drugs, the underage drinking, the promiscuity, the parties, the delinquency, and so much more. Things that refuse to come to her mind right now. She's so dead if this gets out. She cannot see anyone voting for the father of a former drug-user, rule-breaker, crime-committer and so much more. She's so tangled up in her thoughts that she doesn't hear the door open and close and she doesn't hear her father's presence until he speaks, "Erin you know if you want to talk about it, I'm here."

Breaking herself out of her own thoughts, Erin forced a tight smile and nodded as she looked over her shoulder at her dad, "I know."

"Do you honestly?"

She nods and before she can even attempt to change the subject because this heavy topic is not something she wants hanging over them on their week long UK trip, she registers her dad's face.

It's not too often she can read his expression, but the look of worry and alarm is a look from him that's become all too familiar. Erin stood up straighter then, walking closer to the glass window to look out onto the tarmac, "Stop looking at me like that."

"How am I looking at you?"

"You're looking at me as if the next time you see me, I'll have myself hanging from a chandelier. I'm okay dad." She attempted to reassure him with a smile but he didn't interpret that in the way she had intended for him.

The worry and alarm on his face immediately disappears. Voight scowled and shook his head, "That's not funny Erin. I don't want you to ever joke about that. Ever. I'm just worried about you. I want you to talk to me. I know something is wrong. You've always loved traveling with me; I thought you would be happy to be coming here."

"I am," she reassured; the smile on her face slowly disappearing, "I am."

But, he wouldn't drop it.

"You were, but then you got a text," and growing up he always mentioned that he had eyes everywhere and even though he was focused on the lines in whatever book he had been reading, he was still paying attention. He saw. He stepped closer, "Was it from Jay? What did he do?"

And the accusation in his voice, the blame and the allegation towards her boyfriend from her father sent a fierce need of protection surging through her. But, at the same time she saw a way out. She saw a way to move past this conversation because she was ready to get off this stuffy plane and get some fresh air, step on foreign soil and meet dignitaries and ambassadors and citizens of the country. She was ready to play the part of the doting daughter of the sitting president. And the only way to do that was to give him an answer, to tell the truth which would take entirely too long or to lie. She was a lawyer; she practically perfected the art of lying.

And so lying she did, choosing to stay on a fine line between a lie and the truth because while what she chose to admit to her dad wasn't her concern at the moment, it was, in fact, a concern, a worry and a fear she did have when it came to her boyfriend.

Erin's cheeks flushed and she turned her gaze down to her feet, clearly frustrated by how easily her father can read her. She waited. And so did he; he was patient. Her shoulders sagged and she sighed, "I miss him," she admitted barely above a whisper, "And I know you don't like him. I know you wish I was with someone else. I know you pictured me with some senator or a cop or a doctor or something. I know I don't talk about my relationship with him to you because you don't like him, but I do, I do miss him and I like him and I love him," she turned around and reached over to give her father's hand a squeeze, "And it's just…I just…Dad, when I'm with him, I'm not the president's daughter, I'm not the girl who grew up in the public eye, I'm not the rich girl who went to private schools. I don't have to put on a facade to see him like I do when I step out of the house every morning. I'm just me with him and he loves me for it."

And Voight didn't know how to respond to that; instead, he squeezed his daughter's hand in return and muttered the first thought that came to mind, "It's not like you're never going to see him again," he downplayed it.

"Two weeks is a long time."

"And you're worried about him reverting back to his old ways?" To be honest she wasn't worried about it until he brought it up.

"It just crossed my mind."

There was a light knock at the door but neither of them turned to look at it or acknowledge it. Instead her dad moved closer to her, raising his hands to wrap around her upper arms to ensure her focus remained on him, "If he so much as looks at another woman, I'll kill him."

"I don't want you getting involved. He's never given me any reason to doubt him, these are just my insecurities," and when her dad gives her a look, she is forced to acknowledge the voice that lives in the back of her mind, "but dad, he's broken a lot of hearts."

"As long as none of those hearts are yours, I'll stay out of it," he pulls her into a hug, wrapping his arms around her and waiting patiently for her to return it, "And I may not like the guy, I may prefer for you to be with someone a bit more prim and proper, but you love him and if you love someone, that means you trust them. Trust him Erin, at least until he gives you a reason not to."

The wise words of President Hank Voight spoken like a true leader and dedicated father.

She raised her arms and returned the hug and even though that wasn't the issue that was facing her in the moment, it was something that's occasionally crossed her mind throughout her relationship with him, it is something that she knew plagued her and every part of her now was grateful that she stretched the truth, grateful that she told her dad about this particular issue because his words of advice meant everything. She squeezed her arms tighter around him, so tight that if the secret service saw then they would probably intervene.

Her dad smiled into the hug, her hair hiding the relaxed expression in his features, an expression that he hasn't had since he first got into politics. And his arms returned the intensity of the hug, squeezing her just as hard, just as tight before giving her a gentle kiss to the side her head and whispering into her ear, "Never forget I love you."

-x-

It had been a few days –two to be exact- since he said goodbye to Erin, since she left to leave the country and since he departed to New York –one of his favorite places to be. It had been two slow and drawn out days that usually ended with him passing out in bed before midnight. And being two days since his girlfriend left, it had been two days of little to no contact. She had arrived in Scotland early in the morning and all she was able to do was shoot him a text to let him know that she made it safe and sound. His response was left unanswered, but he couldn't fault her for that. She was in Scotland –the second destination on their week-long trip around the United Kingdom. She was busy standing alongside her father and meeting powerful people in foreign lands. When she got the chance, she did send him updates and pictures but that was typically late at night in his part of the world and early in the morning in hers.

The only thing that had gotten him through those two days without her was the busy schedule that Will had laid out in front of them the day they left Baltimore. Interviews –television and radio- scheduled back to back, fan meet and greets, autograph signings and even a sponsored ad they needed to attend for photo ops with them holding up and using the merchandise. He barely got a moment of time to check social media to see if she had posted any tweets or statuses. It's why by the time night came, he was passing out on the bunk in the tour bus or in a hotel room. He was tired yet it was the night of his concert, a few minutes before he's supposed to start singing and rocking the crowd in Madison Square Garden.

New York City was one of his most favorite places because it reminded him of home, of Chicago. Between the busy streets, the lights, the chill in the air and the atmosphere, it was the closest he's been home since the tour started. He'll take it for all it's worth. But, now as he stands backstage reflecting on all of it, he starts to miss home even more. He missed his penthouse, he missed his favorite bar, he missed deep dish pizza and the Chicago Bears who had a home game recently. He missed it all. And he missed his girlfriend and he typically didn't get attached to people or places but that's just another way in which he's grown. He missed it and he didn't have a problem saying that.

It's the middle of October, with the days dragging by extremely slow, making it feel like they had another month to go before touching November when in reality they had a little over one week to go before hitting the eleventh month of the year. Jay readjusted the waistband of his leather pants, rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck by tilting it from side to side before following behind his bandmates in their walk onto stage. Jay scanned the audience the second he approached the microphone. Fans were screaming, shouting his name or the name of another member in the band; someone yelled a declaration of love and as he continued to scan the audience he saw marriage proposals and declarations of their love written out on posters. Jay smiled; his pearly white teeth shining under the spotlight as his grin stretched from ear to ear. He adjusted the height of the microphone stand as his other bandmates prepped their instruments.

"Hey New York City," he speaks into the mic and the sound and the applause from the audience only grows louder and louder. He chuckles.

"I love you Jay!"

He smiled, "I love you too." He doesn't even know who said it or which direction it came from in the audience, but he cared for his fans, without them he wouldn't be here. None of them would be here; it wouldn't be a tour or a District 21 or a relationship with Erin.

As he tightened the knob on the microphone stand, he felt his phone vibrate in the black, leather pants he was wearing. He had forgotten to take it out and leave it backstage. With the microphone on, his ringtone appeared louder. He withdrew it from his pocket and grinned even harder at the sight of his girlfriend's name flashing across the screen. He heard a shout from the audience, multiple shouts actually, all from a place of curiosity at wondering who is calling.

"It's my girlfriend," he answers, chuckling softly at the mixture of gasps and awes spreading throughout the arena.

Someone else shouts for him to answer her; someone else shouts for him to answer it. A chant arises from the audience as they all seem to be in accordance that they want Jay to answer it. He didn't need to be told more than once though; he lifted his cell to the microphone and slid his finger across the screen, "Isn't it like one in the morning in Scotland?" He put her on speaker.

She laughs at that, "Yeah, but I couldn't sleep. I just got back to the hotel and I'm too wired up. What time is it there?" He looks over his shoulder at Ruzek to see the drummer hold up the amount of fingers it takes to imply the time.

"…it's a little after eight pm."

"Seriously," he hears a thump and he wouldn't be surprised if she had fallen, "crap. If it's after eight where you are then that means you're about to go on stage!" The audience laughed.

"Actually…"

"No," he could hear her scrambling back to her feet, "don't tell me."

Jay stretched his cell out towards the audience and every individual in the arena shouted, "Hi Erin," in unison. He could only picture the unnatural shade of red her face was turning. He couldn't even hear her breathing anymore. She was stunned speechless. He brought the cell closer to his mouth, "Er…baby," he rolled his eyes when the audience awed. He waved for his bandmates to approach the mic and the second they did, he took a step back, taking her off of speaker, "I stepped away. Baby, talk to me."

"I had completely forgotten about the time zone difference and then when you reminded me, I forgot about the exact difference in time. Did I ruin your concert?"

"Nah," he waved off her concerns, "I think you actually made it better. We didn't start yet."

"You shouldn't have answered. Why did you answer on stage?"

"You were calling," he states matter of fact, "and my fans started chanting for me to answer."

She's touched, "Really?"

"Really."

A ghost of a smile stretched across her face and she had made her way onto the hotel bed by the time he walked behind stage. He held the phone against his ear and ignored the gestures coming from Will and Natalie as they motion for him to walk back out. The band was stalling. The concert should have started five minutes ago. He needed to get off the phone but with the way their schedules were set up, their free time was backwards. He wasn't rushing this conversation because he honestly didn't care. They could wait a little longer. But they purchased tickets Will shouted out and he had realized that he had spoken it out loud. He couldn't leave his fans waiting. He had to get off the phone and soon.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of this phone call?"

She yawned, "I wanted to call before I completely forgot. I called for two reasons. The second week of November, I was invited to a charity dinner in Indianapolis by a friend of mine from college and I wanted you to be my date. Your tour will be over by then."

"I'm down." Really, he would agree to do anything just to see her. "What was the second reason?" He patiently waited even as Will waved for him to go back on stage.

"…the second reason… I just uh, I just wanted to talk to you and hear your voice and I know this is going to be a pretty expensive phone call considering it's international, but we have the money and you're so worth it." He smiled at that.

His smile was short-lived though because in this moment his brother just wouldn't let him be great. His brother had taken it upon himself to try and yank the phone from his hold; he had even roped Natalie into helping him get Jay back onto the stage. He sighed in absolute frustration. He just wanted to talk to his girlfriend. He just wanted peace and a few moments of privacy and if this wasn't a testament for how much she has changed his life then he didn't know what would be. The corners of his mouth tilted upwards at the thought. He didn't feel as afraid. He still felt the internal battle, the pull and push and the fine line painted between being a committed man and those commitment issues he works hard every day to overcome. He's getting better. He can feel it. The thoughts of running away, of sleeping with someone else, of dumping her, of doing any and everything possible to ruin this relationship was slowly dwindling down, they've become fewer and fewer with each passing day. She gave him more good days than bad, more up days than down and more bright days than dim. Erin was it for him. She had to be it. There was no way he could imagine feeling this way about another person.

His smile, the light in his soul shining outwards graces his face only to be diminished the second his manager loudly grunts in disapproval and rolls his eyes in irritation.

"Jay, just call me back when you're free."

His annoyance flared, but not at her, at the situation and at his brother who was now nudging him towards the stage, "Stay up," he asserted a little more firmly and resolutely before continuing, "During intermission I'm going to call you back so just…stay up. Please." And it may not have been fair of him to ask that of her, but he couldn't help it.

"I'll stay up. You have my word."

"Thanks," he whispered, smiling solemnly, "bye baby."

Just before he hung up, he heard her whisper the same response. Will snatched his phone away afterwards.

Jay rolled his shoulders once more, tucked his hand in a pocket before strolling back out onto stage. The crowd had gotten louder at the sight of him. He grinned, maneuvering through his bandmates who had taken the microphone to stall. He saw the lights dim and the spotlight appear just as he started to belt out the words to his first song, starting off acapella just as Ruzek started hitting the drums, Rixton began playing the keyboard and Mouse started the bass. His voice and the sound of each instrument filled the air and the crowd began rocking in the dimly lit arena, the only light coming from the spotlight and the crowd's cell phone screen.

Just as the first song ended and the next song started to come alive, so did the crowd. Each of them hungry for excitement and desperate to be noticed. Undergarments were thrown onto the stage earlier than expected and way more than the usual amount. The crowd sang their favorite lines, belted out high notes and parts of the chorus as they held their phones into the air to capture the essence of a District 21 concert. By the third song, the cheers erupted because the fans just couldn't get enough. It always amazes him that in the beginning they had only a few fans that normally consisted of friends and faithful visitors to the bars and clubs they've performed at in the beginning of their relationship. When the fourth song came and then the fifth song, the audience was filled with adrenaline, alcohol and a good time so when intermission was called Jay knew that the lines to the restroom and the concession stands were going to be long.

Out of all the members in his band, Jay was the first to walk off the stage. He was the farthest from backstage but he managed to be the first off. He snatches his phone from Will and dials her number; it was approaching two in the morning in Scotland.

"Hello," she answered and he could already tell in her voice that she had fallen asleep, only waking up when her cell phone startled her.

"You fell asleep."

"I fell asleep."

Their words spoken in unison as he walked off to the hallway in a desperate search for privacy. He didn't need water or food right now, he just needed her. He made it to the hallway and put her on speaker the second the door slammed shut.

"I can just let you sleep. I know you have a long day tomorrow."

She clears her throat, "No. No. I don't need that. I was just uh… I was just resting my eyes. I want to talk to you. I need to talk to you."

"Good because I needed to talk to you too," he replied, scrolling through social media in search of something to do to pass the time. He sees his band trending; his concert is number one. He smiles. They're making it big, only a few years ago, they were a small band struggling to make it and now look at them –top on the charts, trending, sold out stadiums and albums.

"How's the concert going?"

He shrugged, "Same old, same old." And she laughed at that, "so I'm currently strolling through social media and you should definitely take a look. A video that you might be interested in watching has been posted multiple times from different angles."

Erin doesn't waste a second to put him on speaker and load up the app. She scrolls to the band's trending name and clicks and it doesn't take long for her to see the video, or videos from varying angles of the moment on stage where Jay answered her phone call. She covered her face in embarrassment as she listened to her own voice on speaker phone, listening as her voice is louder than what it normally is because he had the phone up against the microphone.

"Oh gosh," she groaned in humiliation, "this is so embarrassing."

"I think it's adorable," he chuckled in response, "and look at some of the comments; someone said and I quote, 'even though I don't like that he's taken, I have to admit that Jay and Erin make a cute couple.' You hear that babe! People are slowly starting to come around!"

"I hope you don't expect everyone to come around because that's not realistic."

"Not at all," he asserted, leaning his back against the concrete wall, raising his left foot and bending the knee to rest the bottom of his foot against the wall, "if you ask me, we don't need anyone else's approval. All we need is you and I; us."

"That's so sweet," and he can sense a smile tugging at her mouth, a smile that radiates her face as she continues, " _but_ ," her emphasis of that word has him intrigued, "speaking of approval, I was wondering, what does your father think about us?"

Jay's foot slides down the wall and he stands straighter just as his shoulders stiffen. His dad has always been a sensitive topic; she knows this.

"Unless he watches celebrity news, goes on social media, or reads tabloids, which I doubt, I don't think he knows about us."

"Are you going to tell him?"

"Why?"

"Um…maybe because he's your dad."

"Biologically speaking, I guess."

And Erin sighs at that, choosing to voice one last thought before changing the subject, "I want to meet him next time I'm in Chicago."

"I'll think about it."

The subject was dropped just as Erin moved the topic along to tell Jay a funny story about dinner with the First Minister of Scotland. It left him laughing and reinforcing the idea that she belonged with him always, now and for the definite future. He knew what he wanted to do. He wanted to take a leap of faith and take the next step. It felt right. So just when Burgess comes to retrieve him to prepare to head back to the stage, he sends his girlfriend his love and wishes her sweet dreams. He stands in the hallway even after Burgess turns to walk away and when he doesn't follow, she stops and turns back around, "You coming? I volunteered to come get you because I figured you wouldn't be difficult with me. I can always send in Will."

"I'm coming. I uh…" he scratches behind his head nervously, "I wanted to ask you for a favor."

This intrigues her. She approaches him, "I'm listening."

"My housekeeper…"

"What about him?"

Jay looks over his shoulder to ensure that no one else was in the hall, "Can you call him?"

"And say what?" Kim is now getting suspicious, raising a brow as she waits for his response.

"He has a copy of my keys because he lets himself in to dust and clean," he speaks and this information Burgess already knows, that is, until he continues, "And I want him to make a copy of his set and leave it in the drawer of my end table. I want to give them to Erin."

And this was huge; they both knew it but Kim wouldn't draw attention to it. She didn't want him to back down from the idea. This was huge. For him, this was ginormous. For him to initiate this next step was gigantic. Kim had to do everything possible to contain herself. She wanted to hug him, to kiss him, to squeeze his cheeks but she knew she couldn't -she shouldn't. Instead she silently nodded, reaching her hand out to pat his shoulder before turning and walking out to carry out her very, extremely, exceptionally important assignment.

-x-

At this point, she's missing him like crazy. It's been another two days and now she's in Northern Ireland sitting in her hotel room, watching a channel she had to pay extra money to receive in the country. She should be asleep. It's approaching three in the morning and she has to be up around six in the morning for breakfast with the Prime Minister of Northern Ireland and his family before venturing off to tour national landmarks in the country and meet and greet with Irish citizens. And that was all to be done before one in the afternoon; after that, the list of the things to do continues with events occurring back to back and not ending until around eight at night.

Erin only orders the channel because Jay is being interviewed. It's his last night in New York City and tomorrow afternoon his band will be on the tour bus for four hours going to Boston. It'll be his last concert of the year…at least as far as she knows. It'll be his last concert of this tour. That much she is sure of. She's watching him on a late night talk show and it's rare to see him and only him being interviewed, but earlier he explained it to her via text. Each member had a different event to attend and Jay had gotten stuck with the interview.

From the bed and the comfort of her hotel room thousands of miles away, she watches as he charms the host. With his face and his shoulders and his hard chest, Erin could understand why millions of people fell head over heels for him. Just watching him through the television is reinforcing her love for him. He answers each question with such suave. He even winks at the audience and the host and all of them can barely contain their excitement and their love for him. Erin knows she's a lucky girl but there's something about people wanting your man and knowing that he only wants you that has her reaching for her cell phone and typing out a text.

 _I love you an extreme amount, -EV_

She didn't realize he had his phone on him. She didn't hear it go off but she saw his hand cover the bulge in his pocket. It must have vibrated against his thigh. He'll check it during commercial break, but as she waits, she sends out another text message.

 _I can't remember whether or not I told you, but I'm watching your interview, -EV_

That forest green Henley shirt that he's wearing is doing all sorts of things to her. The dark jeans that shape his toned thighs have her sending another text.

 _That outfit…It looks good on you. Watching you has me missing you more and more, -EV_

His hand hasn't left his pocket since she sent the first message. And she knows he's distracted, he's focusing more on his vibrating cell phone than the questions being asked. The host had to repeat a question twice already. She gives him mercy, setting her phone down on her lap as she watches the rest of the interview, "How are things with you and the first daughter?"

"Erin," he kindly corrects and Erin absolutely loves him for that. "Everything is great."

"All aspects of the relationship are going well?"

There's a genuine smile on his face, one that reaches the glow in his eyes, "Yeah, everything from long distance to scrabble; it's all going fine."

"Scrabble?"

Everyone catches the hint, the reference as to what that involves. It's not the actual game he's talking about; the up and down movement of his brows and the slight smirk on his face lets everyone know that, but it's late night, like late, late night and this kind of stuff is sometimes talked about and mentioned. It doesn't mean that Erin isn't slowly plotting in her head how she's going to kill him, but since it's somewhat normal, she'll make sure it's a quick and painless death. And the only thing that simmers her down and causes for her not to send him a fake, somewhat sexual threat is the smile on his face that made it feel like time slowed down, it's the hearty chuckle of his that energizes her and it's the gleam in his eye that connects all the pieces to the puzzle that is Jay Halstead. She loves that man with all of her heart.

Even though he is substituting the word scrabble for sex, she still loves him and all of his quirks. She sits up straighter when the subject shifts from scrabble to how they met to how she likes coming to his concerts. The topic is them and she loves every bit of it. Erin crawls to the edge of the king sized bed she's supposed to be sleeping in. She turns the volume up just as the interviewer asks a question that surprisingly no other interviewer has asked.

"How was it meeting the president as the man who is currently dating his daughter?"

That seems to be the question of the hour and Erin knows that regardless of his answer, it's going to be talked about and posted and shared thousands of times. Two worlds –the world of entertainment and the world of politics- have been combined for the inevitable future. She hears her cell vibrate from behind her but she makes no moves to get it because she knows it's not from Jay; they haven't gone to commercial yet. She waits with bated breath for his answer, "It was kind of how anyone would expect it to be –pretty intimidating. Man, I just felt like if I said the wrong thing he was going to send me to Guantanamo Bay or something." The audience laughed at his attempt at a joke, but he sat up straighter and cleared his throat in an effort to get serious, "but, to be honest, just imagine meeting the parents for the first time of the person you love, now times that by one hundred because the parents are international figures and leaders of the free world. Whatever feeling and thought you're thinking of then times that by a thousand because that was probably just one of the many emotions and thoughts going through my head."

Erin is humbled in knowing that because he always played it cool. He didn't let it show and he's not letting it show on television. He still has that slight smirk of his even though he's being truly honest about how freaked out he was at meeting her parents. She needs to meet his dad. She's going to pester him about that until he gives in. The interview goes to commercial and she turns to reach for her phone, expecting to receive a text from Jay when she sees a message from an unknown number –most likely Charlie- instead.

 _I gave you a chance. Time is up, -Unknown_

Her breath caught in her throat. She hadn't heard a word from Severide in how he was going to handle this and now that he's reached out to her again, she knows she has to go to the last person she truly wants to tell about this. Erin holds her breath the entire time she slips on a pair of slippers. Another text from him comes through, _do you honestly think ignoring my messages is going to make me go away, -Unknown_

 _I'm serious. You're going to regret ever turning me away in the hallway, -Unknown_

Erin holds the phone to her chest and rushes out of her hotel room. Her guards were asleep in the room across the hall, but currently in the hallway was security provided to them by the Prime Minister himself. She hears them, accent and all, call out for her but she's focused and in a daze and all she sees is her father's room up ahead. She gets there and knocks loud and hard until he answers and when he does, she silently hands him her cell, "I should have told you sooner."

Voight is confused. He doesn't say anything; he simply looks from the guards hanging back behind her to the phone she's holding out in front of him. He's dressed in a navy blue robe with his last name stitched into the corner of it. He gently takes the phone from her and reads the messages aloud, "Who is this from?" His voice sounds rough. It doesn't sound like he was asleep mere seconds ago. He's awake now, motioning for her to enter his room.

"Charlie…"

And while Erin expected him to maybe yell or look at her in surprise, shock or disappointment, he didn't do either of them. He just silently held her cell phone back out to her. And she confusedly took a hold of it, "Aren't you going to say something? Aren't you going to scold me or tell me that I should have told you sooner that he's back and he's harassing me and threatening me about writing a tell-all book if I don't pay him."

"No…" And his answer would have surprised her if she couldn't read her father. Her eyes scan his face and it all makes sense now, "You knew."

"I did," he nods, walking back over to his bed to grab his cell, "and I'm handling it."

"How did you know," she followed behind him, "what are you planning to do?"

"Capp reported it to the head of secret service who reported it to me. And not to mention, Kelly contacted me as well. He had a feeling that you weren't going to tell me and he wanted me to stay in the loop in how he intends to handle this."

"Dad-"

"Go back to your room, Erin, and get some sleep. We have this under control."

"But, dad-"

"Trust me."

So with a heavy sigh she nods like the fifteen year old girl she was when her father first sent Charlie away, she nodded like the college student she was when her father had worked hard to hide her relation to Nadia, she nodded like the daughter she is when her father had come to her rescue many times in the past. He handled things of this magnitude before he became president and now that he actually is president there's no telling how he'll handle it now.

"Okay."

He smiled, "Good. Now go back to bed," he gently ordered just as his fingers dialed a number on his cell phone. And she felt like a child the way her head hung low and she turned on her heel to depart from his suite. She found herself suddenly exhausted. So without even bothering to check her boyfriend's text messages, she plugs her phone into the charger, crawls into bed and waits patiently for sleep to overwhelm and overtake her.


	34. Back Together

It's the beginning of November –the first day to be exact. It's Erin's last day in England with her father and while normally she would return with him on Air Force One, she chose to purchase herself a first class ticket for a flight to Chicago instead of D.C. Being that it's now the first of November, a month with a multitude of plans, she was in for a good time. The awards show is in two weeks in Los Angeles, the charity dinner is in a week before that in Indianapolis and there's a fundraising gala a few days before that in downtown Chicago. And she has absolutely nothing to wear to any of the events.

The first thing she planned to do when her flight touched down in Illinois is go shopping; she needed to be fitted for a dress for the awards and she needed an outfit to wear to her other planned events. Erin was going to arrive the night before Jay is supposed to return from Boston; she was going to come and stay with him during her time in Chicago. He had already told his housekeeper to leave the door unlocked for her return and he trusted the building security to ensure no one went to the floor of his penthouse.

Jay is in Boston; it's the last city on the tour. In two days' time, they will be reunited, back in each other's arms for the next month. It would be a whole month together with no interruptions besides the occasional career responsibility a rock star and an attorney may have to do while on an unscheduled vacation. She purposely ensured she didn't schedule any new clients during the month of November; she double-checked her calendar to make sure she had no planned trials or court appearances. November was going to be a great month and she was claiming it. With a few hours left in England, she spent it in her hotel room while her father ventured out for one last dinner with the royal family. She chose to skip it, instead faking sick because she honestly wasn't up for associating with people today, especially after a full week of meeting new people, shaking hands, making small talk, touring countries, walking in heels –even on cobblestone which is a huge no-, sitting through meetings, getting less than five hours of sleep every night and so much more. She needed this moment to herself which is why her father didn't pressure her in attending with him. Instead, he kissed her cheek and sent her on her way and for the first time in the week, she arrived back to her hotel room while it was still day time.

 _I reminded my housekeeper to leave the door unlock for you tomorrow, -JH_

She yawned and covered her mouth with one hand while the other typed out a reply, _thank you, you're the best, -EV_

She was scheduled to arrive to Chicago around eleven at night and all she could think about is the comfort of Jay's bed. She wasn't going to be up to doing anything but sleep, especially since he won't be coming back to Chicago until a day after she's scheduled to land.

 _Anything for my girl, -JH_

Erin kicked her white heels off and they landed somewhere near the window seat. She tossed her clutch purse onto the coffee table as she continued to venture off towards the bedroom in her suite. All she could think about was the bed that awaits her and a room service menu she's destined to look through. Just as she reaches for the zipper on the side of her magenta colored dress, her phone starts to ring. And her hands paused above the zipper as she walks over to her phone which had landed on the bed the second she entered the room and tossed it. Jay was calling. And she didn't hesitate to answer it, "Hi baby," she greeted the second the image cleared up and revealed his pearly white teeth and his enthusiastic eyes. He was in a good mood.

"So guess what?" He was in his hotel room; she watched him crack open his beer as he waited for her to take the bait of his open-ended question.

"What?"

"Our Mouse is growing up," he stated like a proud dad, "he's got a girlfriend. She's an everyday citizen. She's actually a nurse at Chicago Med."

This intrigues her, "When did he meet her?" She doesn't bother taking off her unzipped dress, instead, she flops down and falls onto the mattress, lying on her bed.

"…last night."

"Hmmm, and it's serious enough to mention it?"

Jay nods in the camera, "He's head over heels for this girl."

"Well good for him."

"Yeah, apparently she was at some medical conference for nurses and she went to the bar with a few coworkers to celebrate their last night in town and that's where they met. They hit it off and come to find out she's from Chicago."

"It's destiny," she sighed like a love-struck teenager. She held the phone above her head as she looked into her boyfriend's eyes through the screen, "What's her name?"

"It's like Hannah, Holly, Helen, it's H-something."

She laughs at that, "You are absolutely horrible with names."

"I'm horrible remembering names after only being told them once."

"How many times did it take for you to remember my name?"

He doesn't have to think long to answer that question, "Once," he stated matter of fact.

"Good answer," Erin sits up in bed; she set the phone beside her as she eased her dress down her body. The fabric fell to her feet and she stepped out of it.

Her phone buzzes but she ignores the incoming text. Whatever it is can wait until she's no longer on the phone with her boyfriend.

"What's on your schedule for the rest of the day?"

"Television and room service," she unclips her bra and tosses it towards a faraway corner. Hopefully she remembers where it landed when it's time to pack up her suitcase.

"…sounds productive."

Erin chuckled at that as she ventured over to the arm chair in the room, the same chair that she tossed the shirt she had slept in last night onto. She lifted it and gave it a short whiff. It still smelled like him. It was his shirt after all.

"I'll have you know that my entire week was productive," she argued after pulling the shirt over her head, "I needed a break. You try spending your day with Hank Voight and other world leaders. Shit gets exhausting. It's the same thing. I shake hands, I'm complimented on my beauty and then I listen as they talk foreign policy. New country, same conversation."

"It can't be that bad."

"Seriously," she scoffed, "next time I'm bringing you then."

"Politics aren't really my thing."

She laughed at his attempt to back out of whatever web he had spun himself in. She heard her phone buzz again and whoever was texting her was very persistent. Yet, she still ignored it. Her boyfriend took precedence over whoever couldn't take a hint right now.

"…maybe we can change that."

He shrugs, "I don't know if it can be changed. I honestly don't really understand it all that much. I couldn't imagine being the president and running the country."

"What about being the first man or the first gentleman?"

"What are you getting at?"

She smirks, "I'm just saying…if I decide a career in politics in the future and if we're heading towards where I think we'll eventually head towards, politics will only become more embedded in your life so maybe instead of shunning it, we can kind of do a crash 101 course involving it."

Jay snorted, but inevitably nodded along, giving in without much argument. She sat back down onto the bed and grabbed her phone, "First the basics, how involved are you in politics?"

"Um, I'm registered to vote in Illinois…at least I think I am."

Her fingers pinch the bridge of her nose, "You have to register to vote so you can have a say in what goes on, but registering to vote isn't the only thing you must do. You have to actually go out and vote in every single election, both small and big, but in order to vote, you have to listen to the information and the policies spoken by all candidates so you can make an informed vote."

"You sound like Natalie," he grumbled.

"Yeah, well I always thought Natalie was a smart girl," Erin retorted, "Now where do you want to start? What exactly don't you fully understand?"

"…the electoral college."

"Oh, you're shooting for the advanced crash course."

He chuckled in response, shaking his head in confusion, "It's just," he's scratching the back of his head, "I don't understand the concept. Why vote if the popular vote isn't enough? Why vote if the Electoral College has the actual say?"

"It's only used in presidential elections so remember when you go to vote in local elections, the Electoral College has no say in the matter," she slowly starts to explain, watching a crease indent in the center of his forehead, "this is why those local elections are so important. The Electoral College is basically there to ensure that smaller states have just as much say in an election as bigger states. Typically electors vote for the popular vote winner in their state but they are not legally obligated to do so. You should-"

"Why vote if the Electoral College will just end up deciding?"

Erin sighs at his interruption, "Babe, just hear me out for a bit. The members of the Electoral College are chosen by the people based on the people's support of a specific party's candidate. It's really confusing and now that I think about it I may not be the best person to explain it," now he's laughing all over again, "when I offered to provide a crash course in American politics, I assumed you were going to ask me questions about the president's cabinet, tax reform, health care, foreign policy, gun control, the constitution, passing laws, vetoing bills, etc. I'm sorry baby, but you'll just have to google it."

"Giving up on me already?"

"This time," she looks at the camera to meet his eyes, "yes."

"Fair enough," he holds her eyes and laughs, "but you do know running for office all those little skeletons in your closet can come out. Tell me a secret of yours -one that no one knows about."

Erin paused. She searched the far crevices of her mind for something. She was an opened book, at least when it came to her family and friends. They knew most things, if not everything. He knew most things; he knew more things than her parents. It was a long pause, a moment in time that extended for so long he was close to changing his mind. But, suddenly a memory came to mind. She moved closer to the screen, "This stays between us."

"Who am I going to tell?"

"I'm serious, Jay," she replied, her tone becoming serious.

He ran his fingers across his lips, mimicking a zipper, "My lips are sealed."

"I taught myself how to pick locks," she started and when Jay opened his mouth to interject, she held up her hand to pause him, "I know I know, but hear me out. I was a rebellious teenager with a curfew and bodyguards. I snuck out of my house and I had to learn how to sneak back in. I've managed to pick the locks at every place I've lived; to a few cars that I have to admit weren't exactly owned by me, to my high school and even to my dad's office."

"Wait, wait, wait," Jay appears impressed as he leans closer to the camera, "you mean you've picked the lock to your father's current office- the oval office?"

"I'm not incriminating myself any further."

The smile on his face was instantaneous. If it was possible for him to fall more in love with her in this moment then consider it done. He adored this perfectly imperfect woman. He planned to talk to her at least for the next hour, to probe for further information about her lock picking days, but when Will came knocking at the door to his suite, he sighed disappointedly. He had to go. Once again their time together was cut short because of outside interference.

"I know you have to go."

He nodded solemnly, "Yeah I do. My brother keeps knocking and I'm close to turning him away."

"There's no need for that. I'll see you in two days."

"Two days."

She grinned, "Let the countdown begin."

Another text messages comes to her phone just as she hangs up. It's from Charlie. All of the previous text messages were from him as well. She should have blocked his number after the first text. This time though, she learns from her mistake. She screenshots the message, the threat, the warning he gives her. And she sends it to her father with no caption added. The text speaks for itself. She sits her phone down on the bed. She's too restless to lie down. She needs to move, to walk, to actually pace. So she paces back and forth, biting her nail cuticle until her phone buzzes against the bed.

In a hurry, she speeds across the room to grab it. Her eyes skimming her father's brief response, _It's all under control, -HV_

 _You keep saying that, -EV_

She's starting to lose faith. She's impatient. How is it all handled and under control when he's still texting her, blackmailing her?

 _Trust me Erin,_ she nods at his message even though he cannot see her, _trust that I have this handled. That should be the last message you ever receive from him, -HV_

His reassurance was enough for her. She has nothing to worry about. Tomorrow she will be back in Chicago and the day after that she should be back in her boyfriend's arms. There is nothing worry about. Absolutely nothing. President Hank Voight has this handled. That's enough for her to relax, clear her mind, and splurge on room service. It's enough to grant her reprieve until her flight tomorrow. She takes a deep breath and exhales it slowly, "It's all handled." It was the afternoon, but the way her sleep schedule has been set up, she already knows it's going to be an early night. But, she's totally fine with that. The sooner she goes to sleep, the sooner she'll wake up, head to the airport and fly back to the continental United States. The countdown was on.

-x-

Jay opens the door to his bedroom and his eyes immediately scan the room and land on Erin, sleeping peacefully on his bed. Even though she had practically guaranteed him that she would wait up for him, he couldn't blame her for falling asleep. She had been running herself ragged these last few months and she deserved to sleep no matter where it was and when it happened. And besides, he told her he would be back in town around ten at night and due to an unforeseen car accident and major traffic delays, he walked in a little after midnight. Her hair is in one large braid, falling down to her upper back. Her hands are linked together and lie beneath his pillow, her eyes are shut tight and her breathing is even as her face presses into his favorite pillow case. He starts to wonder how long she's been asleep. Jay had already kicked off his shoes and lined them up next to hers near the front door and as he makes his way towards his side of the bed, he strips himself down to his boxers. He lifts the covers on the side of the bed that's still made and he eases himself onto the mattress, lying behind her.

He shifts himself over, reaching out to bring her into his arms so her back is flushed up against his chest. She's wearing his shirt and that does something to him. Erin moans in her sleep the second he buries his nose into the scent of her hair. She moans again, rolling over until her face was now buried in the crook of his neck. His fingers play with the end of her braid as he waits for the inevitable exhaustion to take over. It's close; he knows it's coming, but when he hears her voice, he feels a sense of vitality spread through him, "Jay?" She poses his name as a question.

"Yeah, it's me." And his voice sounds more tired than expected, even as he attempts to tease and joke around with her, "Were you expecting someone else?"

Erin never answered because she had fallen back to sleep. And he was seconds behind her, shutting his eyes and drifting into a peaceful slumber now that everything and everyone was where they belonged. She was in his arms exactly where she should be. And a few hours later his eyes were fluttering open, waking up in a dark room because the sun had yet to come up. Her leg was hitched over his waist with her left arm draped over him. Her face was lying against his chest and he could feel the rise and fall of her chest against his. She was practically covering him with her body and it comforted him enough to fall back asleep.

By the time his eyes opened again it was due to a light chill up his spine. They were in a new position. She had rolled over to her side of the bed and he was left exposed. The comforter covered his legs and due to the slight chill in his bedroom, goosebumps started to appear on his skin. He pulled the blanket up and felt the immediate warmth it provided. But, he was still unable to fall back asleep. This wasn't the only reason he had woken up. It was more than that. It was Erin fast asleep, laying a significant amount of distance away from him. He felt instantly colder considering that. It was a coldness that no amount of blankets would fix; turning up the heat in his penthouse wouldn't do it any good either. He reached for her, pulling her back towards him brusquely, selfishly because he needed her back in his arms even if it woke her up in the process.

"Jay?" She blinked, opening her eyes carefully and squinting in the dark room.

He was instantly satisfied with her back in his arms; he pressed a kiss against her forehead, "Go back to sleep, Erin."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I uh," he caressed the skin beneath her shirt which had risen to expose the side of her stomach as he admitted, "you…you kind of rolled away from me and I needed you back…in my arms where you know, where you belong."

And she gave him a well-earned dimpled smile, "You, Jay Halstead, sure do have a way with words," and to seal her words, she laid her hand against his chest and leaned forward to kiss his lips. A sleepy kiss was given; one that held no passion and no energy.

The hand that was caressing her side tightened around her waist and he used his grip to pull her closer, so close that there was no more room between them. He initiated a groggy kiss with her this time; one that was left unfinished the second he remembered something important.

"Before you go back to sleep," he started and he cleared his throat in an effort to stall while he worked up the confidence to continue, "I wanted to um…I wanted to kind of tell and maybe give you something, you know?"

"You have something for me."

And against his better judgment he rolls over to face the opposite side of the bed. He reaches into the end table and pulls out something small, something that is able to fit inside of his closed fist. He rolls back over and doesn't say anything until she's back in his arms, until they're both back in their original positions. It was close to four in the morning and he's about to have a heavily weighted conversation with her because it was something about how his features are hidden in the darkness that gives him the confidence and the push to talk.

"I do," he whispers, "have something for you, I mean."

"Oh…" there's a dramatic pause between her words, "and what is it?"

"My housekeeper cleaned out the drawers on the right side of the dresser," he admitted but she was not following along, "and my housekeeper cleared some space in my closet."

"…I don't think I'm following you."

And he sighs at that; he's not going to be able to beat around the bush with this, "My housekeeper, I told him to clear out some space for you because I want you to leave some of your things here. That space is all yours. I uh," he holds out his fist and slowly turns his hand around to unclench his fingers, "I actually want you to have this."

Her breath hitches in her throat at the sight of two keys resting in the palm of his hand. It goes without saying the keys belong to the front door of his home –the top lock and the bottom. He was asking or implying that he wanted her to have access to this portion of his life, to this idea of them growing closer and moving a step forward in their relationship. She's speechless. Her hand is actually shaking as she reaches for the two keys, "Jay…" her voice wavers.

"I just figured with the tour coming to an end we'll have more time to spend with each other and I want you to move in, officially, unofficially, whatever works for us because I know that D.C. is your home and your job is there and your home is there, but I want this to be your home too. I want you to be able to come here whenever you want whether I'm here or not. I want it, Er."

"Jay…"

"You don't have to say anything."

"I know," she tightens her hand around the keys and pulls her fist up to her chest, clenching the keys tightly in her hold as if someone will try to take them from her, "but I want to say something. I want to emphasize how much I love and adore you, how much you make me happy and how I can only hope that I make you just as happy in return. I…I…want you to move in with me, officially, unofficially and maybe my place can be your second home or your first."

For someone who was prided on for her ability to formulate her words, she was unable to in this moment. She didn't know how much she wanted this until she got it. She didn't know how much she wanted to move in and wanted him to move in with her until the moment presented itself. It was time; it had been seven months since they started dating. She brought the keys up to her face and kissed her closed fist, "Jay, I just…I think your idea is the perfect idea."

He smiled and she could see it in the moonlight, "…we'll have a home in Chicago and a home in D.C. and who knows where the future will take us, but we can have as many homes as we want."

Erin leaned back to set the keys gently down on the end table before rolling back into his arms. If it was possible, she was even closer than she was before she rolled away. Her hand came up to trace the scar above his eyebrow, "I like that idea. I can see us now," she whispered, rolling onto her back as Jay hovered above her, "a beach house, a house in the mountains-"

"…a cabin maybe somewhere in Wisconsin," he mumbled through kisses that he pressed along her neck, "a lake house," he gripped the bottom of her shirt and lifted it above her stomach, "maybe a bungalow or a cottage somewhere." He peppered kisses along her stomach and only retreated backwards when her hands gripped her shirt to pull it over her head.

"Where is all of this money coming from?"

He chuckled, climbing back above her the second her shirt is thrown to the floor, "Between my income and yours, we can at least have a house on every continent. That's seven."

"I don't think we'll have many options in Antarctica."

He continued pressing kisses down her body, "…maybe we can get an igloo there."

She laughed at that; chuckling hard enough that the only thing that stopped her from laughing was the feeling of him pulling her underwear down her legs, tossing the thin garment over his shoulder the second he tugs them off. His hands fell to her legs and her white skin was smooth and soft beneath his calloused hands and he dropped kisses along her thighs until he reached her core. He smirked in the darkness and the only thing that can be seen in the nightfall is his blue eyes and his white teeth as a piercing smile stretches across his face.

"Jay!" Her voice reached a pitch that none one of them has heard before as he plowed in, devouring her essence with every kiss, nip, nibble and flicker of the tongue. She bit her lip to contain her screams, reaching back to grip the headboard in an effort to minimize the building pleasure coursing through her body. He quickens the speed of his mouth on her. He's silent. The room itself is quiet with the only sounds coming from his mouth and now his fingers dragging her to the precipice of pleasure, a height she once thought was unattainable, a cliff that he has brought her to many times before yet no other man has managed to do so in the past.

Jay's fingernails dug into her hips as he tried to keep her from squirming around, but that didn't prevent her legs from wrapping around his shoulders. If she could, her nails would probably be digging into the wood of his headboard. He tightened his hold on her, holding her down to the bed as his mouth ravaged, consumed and devoured her. He had missed her. She had missed him too. In seconds, his name fell from her lips as she exploded around him. At five in the morning, only he could have the energy to bring her pleasure after getting less than a few hours of sleep.

"I love you so much," she said, panting slightly and trying to catch her breath, "so much."

Within seconds, his boxers were on the floor and he was climbing back into the bed. It was the sight of his, actually her, keys sitting on the end table that sent heat rushing to her core. He's kissing her. She's kissing him back just as hard. Her hand tugs at his hair as she devours his mouth; the taste of her essence on his lips sends her into overdrive. Nothing can take away the love she feels for him. Nothing can steal the overwhelming sensation of affection she feels when her hand slips from his hair, to his cheek and he bites the heel of her palm teasingly. That same palm he bites, she uses to push him over onto his back before seductively clambering over to straddle him.

"I love you too," he finally finds his voice to respond as he pulled himself up to a sitting position against the headboard, "I love you more than you will ever know."

"You, Jay Halstead," she asserts as she sits straight on top of him; his hands come to rest on her splayed thighs, "are absolutely everything. The way," her voice catches in her throat as she shuffles back a little to trap the length of him underneath her, "The way you look at me makes me feel like the luckiest woman in the world. You've ruined me for other men because after you, I could never be with anyone else."

And that was music to his ears. He was a possessive guy and to know and be reminded that she's all his like he's all hers was rejuvenating and refreshing.

"My heart beats only for you, Erin."

She's exposed; the blankets pool somewhere behind her but she doesn't care. It's nothing he hasn't seen before time and time again.

She's flushed; the warmth of his body resting below hers. She rocks over him, sliding over the hardness of him, not even thinking about the time and the fact that they have to be up soon.

"Erin," his voice cracks and she stops movement; he needs her. And he voices that, "I need you."

And then she resumes her ministrations in his lap –forwards and backwards and forwards and backwards until Jay's had enough, until he takes charge and grips her hips, lifting her up just high enough while she grabs hold of his member and eases herself down, all the way down until his length completely disappears inside of her, until she's filled to the brim. She sits still. She takes a few deep breaths because she doesn't want this to end too fast.

Down she went, her walls tight around him, both sets of eyes closing in pleasure and relief and both lips involuntarily being bitten and nipped. It began slow, with her hips rising and falling with the gentle rhythm he set forth, but her impatience eventually took over and being on top put her at an advantage to take charge and increase the speed. He sat up. His chest pressed against hers. Her nails dug into his back as their pace quickened, his thrusts increased and her climax began to build and build until it brushed against the edge. A pressure was building below; a pleasure was coursing through her veins and mixing in with her blood that's being pumped by her heart. She buries her face in his neck, her heart strumming in her chest as he quickens his pace; his phone rings across the room and neither makes a move to acknowledge it. Her hair is messily being thrown around as she rode him, "Jay!"

He shouts her name. It comes out as a grunt. Sweat appears on his forehead and his hands clench her waist tighter as he meets her pound for pound and thrust for thrust. Jay moans when her kisses move to his neck, feeling the vibrations tremble under her lips as he moves his palms over her waist, thumbs brushing along her sides. He delights in the stutter of her breath as she rocks forwards and backwards and kisses him deeply. His breath is stuttering just as much; he's almost puffing out steam in the crisp air in the darkness of his bedroom. Her arms wrap around his shoulders and she looks to meet his eyes but find him looking downwards; she follows his gaze. And they both watch, they watch as he appears and then disappears inside of her seconds later, this is continuous, this is steady and intense and it's something about this moment with the keys on the end table, the declarations of love in the air and the physical connection they have with him inserted and thrusting inside of her that has them tumbling over the edge together in perfect harmony, perfect bliss, perfect pleasure and perfect love.

-x-

"So, what do you think?"

Jay helped Erin step down from the passenger side of his truck. She walked off to the side as he slammed the car door shut. Her guards parked directly behind him but chose to keep their distance to grant the couple some semblance of privacy. She stood, facing the establishment that played such a large role in the development of District 21. She saw a picture hanging inside of his penthouse of the band in their young adulthood grinning in front of the same restaurant that she's peering up at, yet it appears different. A lot different. It's like he read her mind because before she could answer the question he posed moments ago, he's stepping towards her and answering the thought that just went through her mind.

"Since we became famous and people found out that this place really helped us get started, it's become a hotspot in Chicago," he mumbles, tucking his hands in the front pockets of his dark jeans, "and from time to time, we'll come back and perform for free and it keeps business up for them and I don't know," he shrugs his shoulders, "I guess with all the extra revenue, they've been building up the place and I like it because they didn't change it too much. It still has the vibe it had years ago back when no one knew our names. And maybe because not many places were cool with a bunch of teenagers performing and driving away customers, this place did and I will never forget that so when they were close to closing down, I paid their rent for the next year and I don't even think they know it was me, but I don't really care because they're still here and open and I guess it was a way for me to say thank you without actually saying it."

He could see in his peripheral that while her body faces the restaurant, her head is turned, facing him and he watches the corners of her mouth stretch far and wide into a bright and infectious smile, "That is just…that's genuinely nice and sweet and I didn't know until now that I was capable of loving you even more than I already do."

Jay shrugs it off and purposely avoids the intense look in her eyes, "It's nothing…I mean it's not like I donate to charity or volunteer at shelters or something."

"It's not nothing; it's something," she waits for him to turn his head in her direction, "It's definitely something."

The current location, the bar and restaurant allowed his band to perform before they became the famously known band of District 21. They performed for tips. They performed in front of audiences who barely paid attention; the crowd was too focused in on their drinks at the bar or the food on their plates to pay any mind towards the unknown band performing the cover of a popular song on stage. From time to time the band would come back and perform in front of a crowd for free, drawing publicity to an establishment that came close to closing down at least three times before the band made it big in the entertainment industry.

The couple stands across the street from the restaurant. Erin turns back to face it. She watches as a large crowd gathers in front of it and they stand just out of sight, feet away from the streetlight that would notify the gathering crowd of their arrival. She takes a deep breath, preparing herself to maneuver through a crowd that was not allowed inside of the restaurant. Most of the fans that congregated outside only arrived to take pictures and fangirl as the band enters the restaurant; some have even planned to camp out and wait to do the same as the band leaves. She rolls her shoulders and takes another deep breath in preparation and before she could step up off the curb, he's pulling her into his arms, he's holding her against his chest, he's burying his face into the crook of her neck and he's brushing his lips along her collarbone, "You smell absolutely divine," his breath ghosts across her skin, "and regardless of everything I just said, there's a large part of me that is thinking we should just ditch this place, go back to my…go back to our place and just get back into bed. Why did we leave it in the first place?"

"As appealing as it all sounds," she chuckled, settling her hand upon his chest to gently push him away, "you already agreed to perform at this spot. You wouldn't want to renege on your word."

Halstead takes another step back in order to scan his eyes over her from head to toe. He stood astonished, absolutely amazed at the woman who stood before him, "You have the most beautiful soul."

The band was back to perform. Jay couldn't bow out. Technically, he could, but he truly wouldn't. He gave the owner his word and Jay never backed out on his word. So, after Erin's little reminder, he intertwined his hand with hers and pulled her up against him, "You know it's going to be a crowded event," she nods, "and there are going to be people there, including Kim," she nods again, "and she's probably going to talk to you to death and since you're back on our turf, you have to promise me that you won't agree to any plans that Burgess makes."

"Plans like what?"

He shrugs, "…just plans."

"Only on one condition," she holds up her finger to emphasize the number one.

He shakes his head, "I don't think I should compromise with a lawyer. You get paid to persuade and I'm a little suspicious of your motives."

"Oh come on," she tugs the bottom of his shirt to draw him in, "aren't you just a little bit interested about what I'm interested in getting out of this deal."

He pushes at her neck with his nose, slanting her head back with the hand he just twisted in her hair. He kisses her softly, teeth pressed against her in a wide grin. He sighed against her lips and silently nodded for her to tell him what she wants out of this, "I want to meet your dad."

And that wasn't what he expected.

"I don't think that's a good idea."

He hoped she would leave it at that but he's been dating her for seven months and he should have known better. She was shaking her head and holding his forearm with both of her hands, refusing to move from the spot until he gave in or at least discussed it.

"Why do you want to meet him so badly? He's not that special."

"He's your dad though."

"Yeah," Jay rolls his eyes, "and he doesn't need to meet you. You're too good for him. He doesn't deserve to shake your hand or even breathe in the same room as you."

"How about you let me be the judge of that?"

An exhausted sigh escaped from his mouth, "You really want to do this?" she nods and he sighs again, "you won't drop this until I agree?" she nods and he sighs once more, "alright, fine, but don't say I didn't warn you about how great of an asshole he can be and if he so much as insults you Erin, you can't hold me accountable for my actions."

"You have yourself a deal," she whispers, quickly rising to the tip of her toes to smear a sloppy kiss against his lips. He grabbed onto her hips, holding her against him for as long as time would permit until the sound of one of her guards clearing their throat interrupted the moment.

Erin stepped back and traced the tip of her finger along the bottom of her lip. She took deep, quiet breaths to tame her racing heart as she tucks her hands into the pocket of her leather jacket, "I should have brought a thicker coat."

"Here," he slides his arms out of his coat, "Take mine." He held it out to her. She didn't take it.

"…then you'll freeze."

"I rather freeze than you," he opened the coat up and draped it around her shoulders.

"Jay," she was ready to complain, but a quick press of his lips against hers silenced it. She had actually forgotten what she was about to say. It was a pleasant distraction. It was a move that was followed by him taking her hand and leading her across the street.

It was obvious the second everyone caught on to their presence. High-pitched screams, shouts and cries and wails erupted along the crowded street. Bright flashes of cameras flickered back to back with no moment of reprieve or a chance for them to blink the spots out of their vision. The hands of fans reached out to touch, to yank and pull at them because the restaurant didn't hire security and the crowd had moved in so fast that they had unintentionally caused for them to separate from her guards and for him to unintentionally separate from her. She lost him.

His hand was no longer in hers. She couldn't see him anywhere. Yet, she could hear his voice. She could hear him calling out for her, shouting her name and ordering his fans to move out of the way in his quest to reach her. And before long, he does and this time he ensures he doesn't make the same mistake. This time he's throwing his arm around her shoulders and pulling her in, up against him. His lips brushed across her forehead the moment she turned inwards, laying her hand against his chest, "Are you okay?" He was concerned for her.

"I'll be better once we get inside."

That's all he needed to hear. He threw his hand outwards to push through the crowd; his face was masked in indifference and he set his mind on one thing –getting Erin inside. Her face remained buried against his chest and her hand was shielding her eyes from the bright lights and she wasn't used to all of this. She actually hated it all. She was prepared to steer clear of the spotlight. She wasn't made to be front and center in front of cameras unless it was in an official capacity. This wasn't. She wasn't working or volunteering or campaigning with her dad. This was her personal life; this was date night with her boyfriend. When she thinks she can handle the fans and the paparazzi, she is always reminded that she can't.

"Sorry babe," his apology was genuine and he only dropped his arm from around her shoulders when the door shut behind them and her guards, "maybe when we leave, we can take a back exit or I can go out and bring the car as close up to the front as possible."

"That's really not necessary."

"I don't mind."

"Yeah, but I really need to start getting used to this. I mean," she sighs agitatedly; she was frustrated, not at him, but at herself, "I've been in the public eye since I was a kid. I should be used to this, but my dad made sure we had as normal of a life as possible. I didn't have fans. I didn't have paparazzi following me around. Yeah, they captured the occasional photo of me, but I never knew about it. I'm just…I'm just trying to get used to this."

"I'm sorry."

She shook her head at that –unaccepting, "You don't need to do that. It's not your fault. And besides, you're worth it. I'll go through all of that every day, all day, if it means I can be with you. I don't want you apologizing for things outside of your control."

And he said nothing else after that. There were no words that came to mind for him that would encompass all he wanted to say. Instead, he circled his right arm around her waist and pulled her up against him, thrusting his chest against hers before bringing his mouth down, moving his lips against hers in a desperate attempt to tell her exactly what her words meant. His girl definitely had a way with words and for some reason; she always knew what to say.

When a throat clears, he feels her pull away. He would have continued. He actually had all the intent to continue. He started to lean back in but she stepped out of his embrace, "You're rejecting me?" The smirk on his face let her know that he wasn't upset by it.

"You have a show to do," she reminded, nodding her head over towards the makeshift stage that's usually used for karaoke on Friday and Saturday nights.

He doesn't respond –at least not right away. Right now he's calculating how long it would take for him to pick her up and carry her out of the restaurant and through the crowd to his car with the intent of taking her back to the penthouse. He craved her. He needed her. And she knew it because if he could read her as well as he thinks he can, by the way she's biting along her bottom lip, she's just as turned on as he is, but…and he hates to think it and admit it, but the show must go on and Will is currently waving for him to come over to help set up.

Damn. This is the first time since he's been back here to do a show that he didn't want to do it.

He snaps out of whatever glare he was shooting towards his brother to notice both of her hands on his chest. Her fingers are toying with the three buttons on his shirt and her body is arched into his and she's such a perfect fit. He doesn't even notice or pay attention to the seated guests dividing their time between drinking, ordering, eating and watching him and his girlfriend interact. Jay sees Burgess waving over at him from the table closest to the stage, "I see Kim."

Erin stays in his arms, but she does turn her head to glance over her shoulder, "I guess that's my hint to go on over."

"Remember our deal…"

"…as if I could forget," she places the gentlest of kisses against his cheek.

"Oh," and when she starts to walk away, he reaches for her wrist and pulls her back, "this place serves some great mozzarella cheese sticks."

"I'll order me some."

"Order me some too please."

She grants him one final, parting kiss, "We can share." And then she walks away; her guards following but maintaining a certain amount of distance. He sees her maneuver through and around the tables, speaking when spoken to in her quest to get to Burgess and he only turns to walk towards the stage the second his brother decides waving for him to come over isn't good enough and starts shouting his name across the crowded restaurant. God, he's ready to go home.

Kim had left the seat to her right open and Erin made her way around the table to it. Burgess rose to her feet and helped her out of her black, leather jacket and Jay's coat before draping them over the back of her chair which had already been pulled out for her. Erin reluctantly took her seat, "You know you didn't have to do any of that. What's up?"

"How are you when it comes to meeting new people?"

"I'm fine I guess," She answered as a glass of ice water was placed in front of her, "Thanks," she whispered to the waiter before he walked away, "Why?"

"…because I invited Mouse's girlfriend, Hallie, to come out to see them perform," Burgess admitted somewhat bashfully as she purposely stared at the club manager set up the stage for the band's performance in order to avoid meeting Erin's suspicious gaze, "…and I uh…I…I invited some old friends of mine who have been dying to meet you."

"Kim…" Erin expected it to be more.

And she was right.

"Okay, so they're not really friends of mine, but I went to high school with them. I went to my reunion last night and I had to go alone since the guys were still away and talk turned towards the tour and I mentioned that I'm friends with you and they didn't believe me so I invited them out to kind of prove it to them."

Erin sits dumbfounded. She's staring at Kim and only glances away when she checks out the guys setting up their instruments on stage. After briefly getting distracted by the way her boyfriend's jeans hug his ass, she focuses back in on the matter at hand and now she realizes that she's going to need a stronger drink. She waves her hand for the waiter to come back over, "I need something strong," she tells the waiter, "just give me a glass of your top shelf and I need an order of your mozzarella cheese sticks."

"Are you going to say something?" Kim asks the second the waiter walks away, "Are you mad?"

She looked over to Kim, raising a brow in question, "Fine."

She squealed in delight, leaning over to hug Erin tightly, "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"

"I'm _only_ doing this for you because you're my friend but I typically don't like to find myself in petty beefs and squabbles and situations where people try to one up the other person."

"How'd you know?"

"I've been to high school. I've also been to a high school reunion. At my reunion, I brought Kelly with me because I refused to show up alone. So, I'll play nice and do what you need me to do and say what's needed, but just so you know in the future, you don't need to prove anything to anyone. Okay?" Kim nodded eagerly, already bouncing up and down in her seat, "Okay, so what exactly did you tell them?"

"…that we hit it off the second you and Jay started dating and we text almost every day and we're probably going to be vacationing together soon and that I met both of your parents and they absolutely adored me and that we're practically best friends and-"

"I don't use that label lightly."

This confuses Kimberly, "What label?"

"Best friend," she answers, smiling up gratefully when the waiter sets a drink down in front of her, "I take that label very seriously. I…I'll go along with everything you said _but_ that one."

And Kim wanted to poke and prod at the defensiveness behind it but she saw her three former classmates walking over and she didn't have the time. She sat up straighter, grabbed the glass from Erin's hand and swallowed down the rest of her drink before handing it back to a disgruntled and annoyed Erin, "I'm sorry but I think I needed that more than you."

"I think that's up for debate," she waves for the waiter to return.

"Kimmy," a chorus of squeals erupt the second three women surround the table, "oh my gosh, I know we just saw you, but it feels like forever." It's the brunette that's talking.

The blonde speaks up next, "We cannot wait so long to see each other again," she says to Kim, but she's staring at Erin, "Kimmy, are you going to introduce us?"

"Oh, yes, yes," Kim jumps to her feet and her elbow bumps into Erin and causes for the glass of water she's forced to drink since Kim had snatched her alcoholic drink away to spill onto her blouse. The ice and the water spills and forces her to jump up to her feet.

"Same old Kimmy, just as clumsy as she used to be," the third girl, the one with dirty blonde hair that seems to match the shade of Erin's hair exactly speaks up for the first.

Jay had seen from the stage. And he made a move towards her but she waved for him to return to his previous task. God, she should have taken him up on his offer to ditch this place. She gratefully accepted a napkin from the waiter and put in an order for the top shelf alcohol, but this time requested two glasses. She's definitely going to need it.

Kim whispered, "Sorry Erin,"

"It's okay," Erin may have been frustrated but it was truly an accident and she wouldn't hold it against her, especially with the three women already making comments about it and guilt tripping Kim enough for the both of them.

"Um and Erin," Burgess begins her introductions, "this is Stephanie," she nods towards the blonde, "Melanie," the brunette waves, "and Daphne," she points towards the third woman.

Erin stands and stretches her hand out towards them, "It's nice to meet all of you."

"You know when Kim told us that you guys were friends I could barely believe it," Stephanie shakes her hand first, "I mean…I knew you guys had met just because of the whole you dating the lead singer of District 21 and her being married to the little drummer boy," Erin had picked up on the hint of malice, "but I didn't know the extent to your relationship with her."

"Kim is pretty amazing. My parents already adore her," Erin shrugs, easily falling back onto the information that Burgess caught her up on, "and I do too. She's a good friend."

"Enough about Kim," Melanie waves that topic off, ignoring the confused expression that crossed Burgess' face. She takes the seat on the opposite side of Erin and scoots her chair closer, "I have been dying to meet you. I," Melanie is elbowed in the side by Daphne, "I mean we are huge fans of your fashion style. I mean _huge_ fans. And we're also fans of your boyfriend."

"By fans," Kim briefly interrupted, "they mean they have huge crushes on him."

Stephanie chimes in, "Can you blame us though? That face, those muscles, that body…"

"Should we really be talking about this?" Erin shifted in her seat. And by some good luck, both of her drinks arrived and were placed down in front of her.

"How is he?" Daphne decides to cut to the chase. And Burgess reached for one of the glasses Erin had ordered only to get her hand slapped away.

"How is who?"

"…your boyfriend," Melanie answers, winking.

"I'm not sure I'm following."

"How is your boyfriend in the bed? We've heard great things but you know we don't really know how accurate it is? And you kind of took him off the market before we could find out for ourselves." It was Stephanie who felt the need to answer. It was Stephanie who became Erin's least favorite person in the night. And she looked at Burgess, she looked at her friend and told her with a harsh glare that if she didn't get rid of her friends in the next minute, she was going to happily cause a scene that one could blame on jealousy or possessiveness. Pick your poison.

Kim got the memo. She excused herself and waved for her friends to follow. They didn't. They didn't budge until her guards gently grabbed their arms and led them away from her and towards Burgess who was now sitting in the bar area. Erin finished her first glass and watched from afar as Kim spoke to her friends, or rather, as her friends spoke and chastised Kim. Whatever was being said led for Burgess to walk away angry, approaching the table with a stomp in her feet and a huff in her breath. She sounded like a teenager. Erin wouldn't say that though because she didn't want to upset her further.

"You shouldn't let them talk to you like that," Erin whispered, smiling up at the waiter as he set down her order of mozzarella cheese sticks. She knew the performance was supposed to start soon so with a quick wave of her hand she motioned for Jay to come over.

"That's easier said than done, Erin." Kim mumbled in response and she failed to meet her eye even if her body was facing her.

Jay approached. He took the seat next to her, the one that Melanie had vacated as he started to eat some of the mozzarella cheese sticks. One of his hands resting on her thigh and the other dipping the cheese stick into the marinara sauce. Erin broke her cheese stick apart and smiled at the sight of the string of cheese stretching as far as she pulled, "It'll only get worse. They don't respect you, Kim. They talk to you any way they see fit and that isn't right. You have to stand up for yourself because if you don't then no one will."

Erin silently eats her cheese stick before deciding to take another approach, "You remember when I told you that it reminded me about when I was in high school," she waits until Kim nods before continuing, "well those girls used to pick on me and tease me until I punched one of them in the face," at this, Kim's eyes bulge and Jay almost chokes on a cheese stick; he has no idea about the backstory or what caused the confession, but this admission intrigues him, "yeah and I got sent to the principal's office and was almost kicked out of private school but my dad pulled some strings, but what I'm trying to say is it should have never gotten to that point. In the beginning, I never said anything. I never stood up for myself. I never defended myself and because of that they felt like they could do and say whatever they pleased and I just let them and then it kept happening and kept happening until it was too late and I just snapped."

"It's not an everyday thing though. I don't see them every day."

"If I were you, I wouldn't see them at all. Some friends are toxic and it's best if we cut those loose. You weren't your happy and carefree self today and it was weird seeing you so meek and mute around those girls. That's not you and you don't want that to be you and if it's them that's causing you to be someone you're not then cut that branch off the tree. You don't need them."

"…but they're my friends."

"Yeah, well friends don't make friends feel like shit."

And with that the lights started to dim and the restaurant's manager began to make an announcement. She saw Jay eat one last mozzarella cheese stick before leaning over to press his lips against hers and then depart to walk onto the stage. He was brushing his hands together to rid himself of the crumbs. The show was starting. And she was absorbed by the music even though Kim wasn't. She saw her debating this. She knew her words were circulating and on repeat in Kim's head. She looked over at the bar and met the eyes of her so-called friends and they all waved at her eagerly and excitedly as they rocked and swayed to the music. Erin simply scoffed before kindly waving back. She had to be nice. She had to play nice. She had to be the dotting first daughter, the respectable young lady and the proud girlfriend. Her dad was running for re-election.. And her mother didn't raise her to be a rude ass.

Be nice. She kindly reminded herself. Be nice.

She turned to face the small, makeshift stage just as Mouse began strumming his fingers along the bass. She watched Jay close his eyes as he started to hum into the microphone. The audience was entranced. None of them were focused on their meals or their drinks, but on the famous band owning the stage. There was no tip jar. They stopped playing for tips the second they made it big. Instead, they played for free as a way to say thank you for listening. It was a peaceful atmosphere, a calm one that was the complete opposite of their concerts. The audience was filled with middle aged adults –old married couples who came out for date night, business executives who were having a corporate meeting and young adults who were on their first or second date.

Erin sat in her chair, swaying her body side to side, completely consumed by the melody in her boyfriend's voice. She was so proud of him. To come from nothing and to reach your goals was the American dream. Her boyfriend was living it. And she couldn't be prouder if she had tried.

It took her breath away.

There weren't many things that distracted her from food. This though, this was one of them.

She felt a warm, fuzzy feeling growing inside of her when his eyes reopened and connected with hers.

It buoyed her spirits.

She continued to sway and the only thing that diverted her attention away from the stage was a woman -Erin had never seen before- approaching the table. Her guard stepped forward but Erin waved Dawson away. She may have never seen her before but Erin knew who she was.

"Hallie," Kim jumps to her feet. And the music still plays in the background.

"Hi Kim," the young nurse nervously waved; her body faced Burgess but her head and eyes were directed towards Erin. Her presence was strong in the room. It commanded attention.

"Oh, Hallie, this is Erin," Burgess takes it upon herself to introduce, "and Erin, this is Hallie."

And that's her cue. Erin stands up, brushes the tips of her fingers against an unused napkin before extending her hand, "It is so nice to meet you. I've heard great things."

"You did?" Her surprised eyes were fringed with long lashes. She felt a shortness of breath the second she shook Erin's hand.

"I did," Erin grinned. Her smile turned into a laugh when Hallie's hand continued to shake hers. It was a handshake that went on a little longer than what was socially acceptable.

"Guys, people are starting to stare," Kim whispered, interrupting the shaking of their hands.

Erin took a hold of her seat and Hallie scurried around to take the empty one next to her, "So, is this your first time watching," she pinches herself for the stupid question, "sorry dumb question. I already know the answer to that," Erin arched her brow, "I…I just mean that anyone who hasn't been living under a rock knows the answer to that because your relationship is on all cable news networks and social media so I would have to be living under a rock if I didn't know." Her face was flushed; Hallie felt embarrassment rack her. Never in a million years did she think she would get the opportunity to date a celebrity nevertheless meet the first daughter of the country.

"There's no need to be embarrassed," Erin whispers, patting Hallie against the back.

"Yeah well," she shrugs in response, "that's easier said than done. I'm talking to Erin Voight."

For the remainder of the show, Hallie struggled to focus on the music. She felt torn between her boyfriend currently playing the bass and the woman sitting next to her who was completely absorbed by the lead singer stroking his fingers along the strings of his guitar. She was so focused on splitting her mind between the two that she hadn't realized the show was over. She didn't see the band setting their instruments down, bowing at the round of applause and stepping off the stage to walk towards their table. On their quest over, they had been stopped by a few fans and groupies in need of autographs and selfies.

"Does it ever bother you?"

Both Burgess and Erin looked up at Hallie's question. They kind of knew where the conversation was going. It was months ago when Erin had a similar conversation with Kim, in Chicago, but in a diner on the opposite side of their current location.

"Does what bother us?" Kim questions, leaning forward to glance around Erin to follow Hallie's eyes, "Oh, you mean the endless supply of girls," Hallie nods, "No…not usually."

Hallie turns to face Erin, "And you?"

Erin didn't answer the question right away. Instead she watched. She watched as the women threw themselves at the guys and she watched as Jay struggled to make his way through the crowd. Papers awaiting autographs were shoved in their faces. He could feel her eyes on him and he lifted his gaze to meet hers. His expression alone helped her shape an answer.

"It doesn't bother me," the smile on her face matched the smile on his, "as long as he's coming home to me, it'll never bother me."

By the end of her answer, Jay had managed to get through the crowd of fans and overwhelming support. He moved up to the table, wrapping his hand around his girlfriend's and pulling her to her feet. He nods towards Hallie in a silent greeting before turning his main focus and undivided attention onto the girl in his orbit. Jay buried his face into the crook of her neck as he held her tightly and securely in a left armed embrace, "What did you think of the show?"

"…perfect," she pecked his cheek, "like always."


	35. Daddy Dearest

It was going on fifteen minutes since they parked in front of Jay's childhood home. The minute hand on his watch was slowly ticking by signaling the next minute as the couple remained in his car. He didn't want to do this. She did. And they were arguing but it wasn't over the fact that she basically strong-armed him into introducing her to his father. It was over Thanksgiving; it was over a holiday that was still weeks away. She wanted him to come back to D.C. with her and spend it with her family. He wanted her to stay in Chicago and spend it with him and his friends. This was why the time was pushing onto seventeen minutes since they've been parked. It wasn't because Jay was trying to stall. It was because they couldn't see eye to eye.

And he refused to walk inside his father's house with an angry girlfriend and unresolved Thanksgiving Day plans.

Gazing forward at a house he hasn't seen since early in the year, he purposely feels himself prolonging the argument just to avoid getting out of the car. Her guards are parked behind his vehicle probably wondering why they haven't gotten out yet. It's now reached the 20 minute mark. And Erin suddenly realizes what he's trying to do.

"Thanksgiving with your family and Christmas with mine," she ends the debate; she absolutely gives up on fighting on spending the holiday in the capitol.

"Wait," he blinks out of his reverie and looks over at her, "What?"

"I solved it. I'm sort of a problem-solver," she reaches for the handle of the door, "now let's go inside because I'm ready to meet the man who contributed to your conception."

"Can we not refer to him as that?"

Erin doesn't respond. She's already out of the car. Her guards are out too –following at a safe distance. Each of them space and spread out to surround all entry and access points to the Halstead's small single family home. Jay is quicker than he expected, jumping out and slamming his car door shut before jogging to catch up to her. He grabs her arm, gently pulling her to a stop, "Erin. Erin. Babe," he's tugging her towards him, turning her to face his pleading eyes, "before we go inside I just want to say don't let anything he says get to you."

"Okay Jay," she pats his chest kindly.

"I'm serious Erin," he tightens his hold on her arm, "I'm so fucking serious because he's unpredictable and he has a way of ruining things for me, good things, he ruins the best things I have going for me and right now that's you and that's why I didn't want him anywhere near you because he has a way of killing everything that he touches," her guards stepped forward at his choice of words, "figuratively speaking I mean, guys you can relax," they took a step back.

She pats his cheek with her opened palm. Her body leant forward close enough for her lips to brush across his, "I love you."

"I love you too."

"And I'm not going anywhere."

"You promise?"

"I promise," she drops her hand in order to hold up her pinky, "I pinky promise." He laughs but he does find himself humoring her by wrapping his own pinky around hers.

And Jay realized that it may not have been fair of him to promise her to stay because by the look on his dad's face the second he opens the front door, he knows that the elder Halstead had no intention of being on his best behavior. The Cheshire grin on his face should have been warning enough but Jay went against his better judgment. He ignored it and with his hand pressed against the lower back of his girlfriend, he escorted her inside.

"So the guys at the bar were right…" his father shut the door behind them.

Even though he had just arrived, Jay already sounded exhausted, "Right about what?"

His father happily approached, "You dating the first daughter of the fucking country, Jay, my boy," his hand clasped around his son's shoulder, "I'm so proud of you. At least you know if you blow through that rock star money of yours you won't ever go broke."

"Dad-"

"And she's absolutely gorgeous!" His father exclaimed; his eyes obviously scanning her body and lingering at her chest, "A fine specimen she is."

"I knew this was a bad idea," Jay pulled his girlfriend behind him, "I'll talk to you later dad."

"Wait," the elder Halstead shouted, taking a stand in front of the door to prevent their exit, "um, you're right I guess, maybe we could um, start over?"

This was new. This was unexpected. His dad never apologized. Well, technically he didn't apologize but his dad never hinted towards an apology and he never admitted when he was wrong. His dad's persona played a large role in shaping Jay. His inability to apologize, his lack of accepting and admitting when he's wrong, his intimidating stature and his failure to control and filer through the thoughts that enter his head and the words that leave his mouth have all passed down from the senior Halstead to the youngest one. It seems to have skipped Will all together. Lucky bastard.

Jay didn't trust easily. He didn't believe his father's words and he still had every intention of leaving, but his girlfriend, his ridiculously nice and selfless girlfriend had nodded her head, gave his dad a smile he truly didn't deserve and walked further into the house after releasing his hand from hers. His dad gave him a wink of the eye before following her further into his childhood home. Jay maneuvers around him, moving in closer to his girlfriend as she walks slowly down the hallway connecting the front of the house to the kitchen and the living room. She's looking at the photos on the wall, completely oblivious to the tension and the dynamic between father and son. Jay's arm finds permanent residence around her waist; he has no intention of moving it, at least until they leave. She comes to a stop in front of a family photo; her fingers stretching out to run across the wooden frame, "Is that your mom?"

He barely heard her question, "Yes," his voice sounds a little weak. This subject gets to him. It'll always get to him. He brings his fingers up to trace along the photo in sync with hers, "It was a year before she died. It was one of the best years of my life."

Erin has never suffered the loss of a parent. Her mother is still in her life. Her father is one of her favorite people. She cannot imagine a life without either one of them in it. She couldn't imagine having the relationship that Jay has with his father with her own dad. Yeah, they bicker and can sometimes fight like cats and dogs but it was all out of love. He was her dad. And nothing and no one will ever change that. He always had her best interest in mind and even if she never agreed with every parenting decision he's made, he's always done what he thought was best. Erin removes her hand from the photo just as her boyfriend's father approaches and stands on the opposite side of her, "You see this picture here," he nods towards a faded father and son photo hung up on the wall, "that's me and Will; I think that was two years after my wife died."

"Where were you?" She glanced to her right to look at Jay, but it was his father who answered.

"…probably off in the garage somewhere being antisocial and up to no good."

Jay simply rolled his eyes; his father's words bouncing off an armor he's built up over the years, "I was probably working on my music. Will was the prodigy child who was hardly ever grounded. Me, on the other hand-"

"…was bad and just plain hard-headed," his father grumbled, eyes focused on the photo of he and Will; "I punished the bad child and rewarded the good. It was hard raising two kids, especially after my wife died but I did what I could and they both turned out alright."

"…with no help from you," Jay retorted in what he thought was under his breath but his father had heard it. He always hears it.

"You've always been ungrateful," he dryly chuckled in response, "one would have thought that with age you would have gotten wiser but it seems that's another thing that has skipped over you."

"…the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree, huh?"

"You should have taken up comedy instead of music," his father retorted.

And if Erin thought the atmosphere was tense before, it was ten times worse now. Father and son stood face to face, practically chest to chest and neither one of them would back down. Erin maneuvered herself between them, using her strength to push the two of them apart, "Hey babe," she's facing Jay; both of her hands are cupping his face, "we can go now. I'm ready."

Jay isn't even looking at her. He's looking past her; he's focused in on his father's glare as he heaves a frustrated sigh. Erin's hands caressed his chiseled jawline, coaxing him to look away from his father and towards her. He refused. He couldn't. He was too angry. And she would see all of that. It was easier for him to direct it towards his dad; he could never look at her with such hate. And she knew that; it was why she kept coaxing his head downwards to angle it to meet hers. He couldn't help it though; he couldn't pull his eyes away from his father's gaze.

"Before you two leave," Jay had only pulled his eyes away from his dad's gaze the second the older man rested his hand on Erin's shoulder, "I wanted to introduce you both to someone."

His eyes widened, his pulsed race and his body simmered in anger, "Please don't touch her."

Erin simply stared up at Jay, remaining in his tightened arms as he focused his glare on his father. She tried for the third time to force him to meet her eyes, but he just couldn't. Not now. Not when his dad is still in the room, invading on a moment. Not when his father is smirking; his face sporting its typical mischievous glint. Not when his father's hand was currently resting on her shoulder, tainting her pureness with his impurity. Her guards remained outside and every part of Jay wishes they had come in. Isn't there some rule that says they'll take down any one who touches the first daughter? Probably not; it's probably just wishful thinking he supposes. Jay has never claimed to be patient or kind; it's why he knocks his father's hand off of her shoulder, "Please don't touch her again."

"Jay…" she whispers; her tone comes out in a warning.

"Follow me," his father turns on his heel and continues to walk in the direction of the kitchen.

And Jay had half a mind to just grab his girlfriend's hand and pull her outside, but the only thing that stops him, that gets in his way is her acting first. She's taking his hand and she's pulling him further into the house. Erin's following behind his father and he has no choice but to follow behind her. He has no intention of letting her out of his sight. His father made it into the kitchen first, followed by Erin and lastly Jay. The latter of the three coming to an abrupt stop at the sight of a woman –a woman a few years older than him.

"Jay," his father uttered his name, "I want you to meet someone near and dear to me. Come here sweetheart," he waved the younger woman over, "this is Tanya." She sauntered over to him, a seductive smile on her face as she wrapped her arms around his father's neck. Tanya brought her lips forward and smeared them against the older Halstead's mouth. The second the kiss ended, Tanya pulled away and that's when he noticed it –the sparkling engagement ring on her finger.

Jay couldn't breathe.

His dad's lips twitched upwards.

Tanya blushed.

Erin narrowed her eyes.

"Please don't tell me that's what I think it is," his tone disbelieving as he approached the beaming couple, "Please don't tell me that's mom's ring." He yanked her hand a little harder than he intended but to be honest he was too angry to care.

"Jay," Erin asserted, but he ignored her.

"Tell me you're not that stupid!" Jay is shouting now. His voice is no longer whispered or even; it's loud and bolstering. It actually causes Jay's father to take a step back and Erin to take a step forward, "Is that mom's ring?"

Tanya glanced down at the gold band wrapped around her finger, "We're getting married," she grinned, biting her bottom lip, "and we want you to be there." And Jay found himself not angry at his father for moving on, not angry at the fact that he's moving on with someone young enough to be Jay's sister and not even angry at the fact that she's most likely with him for the money she _thinks_ he has. His dad is broke. And Jay knows that once Tanya finds out, she'll pack away most of his father's worldly possessions –including the ring- and ditch him in the middle of the night. He's not angry at any of that because he doesn't care. He couldn't care less about his dad after the way he treated him growing up. All he cared about in this moment is the ring wrapped around Tanya's finger.

"Give me that ring," Jay refused to allow the conversation to steer off course, "either you can give me the ring or I'll take it from you." His father gained the courage to step forward.

"I would like to see you try son."

Jay responded with a dry chuckle. One that was abruptly cut off the second Erin stepped between him and his father, holding her hands out to keep them apart, "You were right," she's looking directly in her boyfriend's eyes, "We shouldn't have come here."

He stepped forward, an arm wrapping around her waist as his other weaved through her hair and he kissed her. He roughly pressed his lips against hers before pulling away and glancing up at his father, "I want that ring."

"It was never yours."

"It was my mother's ring," he said through gritted teeth.

"And who do you think bought it and gave it to her?" His dad's arms crossed over his chest as he waited for his son to answer and when Jay took too long to respond, his father finished, "I did."

"I thought Will was keeping possession of it. Mom gave it to him and told him to hold onto it for either me or him or whichever one of us gets married first."

"Will gave it back," his father shrugged his shoulders, "Natalie's mother handed down a ring from her grandmother for him to use whenever he pulls his head out of his ass and proposes."

"Dad…"

"And you want to know why he gave it back to me? Why he didn't give it to you? It's because we both know you will never settle down, you're too much of a coward to do so. I'm proud of you son, I must admit, dating the president's hot daughter. Wow," his father began to clap slowly to back up his amazement, "you've absolutely scored, but just because you're in a relationship doesn't mean it'll last. Yeah, she's hot and filthy rich but beauty fades and knowing you, you'll ditch her the second she starts to sport a wrinkle or a stretch mark."

"You don't know what you're talking about. You don't know anything about my relationship."

His dad laughed at that, "Oh but I do. I know you better than you know yourself and I know it'll never last with you. So, why would I save your mother's ring for you to use when I know it'll do nothing but collect dust in the back of your closet?"

Jay swallows roughly before stepping away from her, a dismayed look in his eyes as her hands slip away from his. It's almost as if she can read him, feel what he's going to say through his body language, the hardness in his chest and the rigidity in his muscles.

"Dad, I swear…"

"What is your problem?" His father retorted, arms crossed over his hardened chest, "I'm proud of you. You've been dying for me to be proud of you and now that I am, here you are being ungrateful once again. Why can't you just thank me? I complimented you. I complimented your girl. I even offered you a pat on the back and here you are, acting like the same old Jay Halstead, selfish, ungrateful and completely egotistical."

"You're proud of me for dating Erin Voight. That's the only reason you're proud."

"Is that so bad?" His father questioned, throwing his hands into the air as he waited for an answer and when no response came, he continued, "You're dating up. Why can't a father be proud of that? You've got yourself a fine woman, Jay, a fine, fine-"

"Just stop!" He shouted, shoving his father out of his way. He hears Tanya speak, he hears her attempt to play peacemaker but she's barely old enough to dictate the terms of his relationship with his dad so he simply casts her a warning look, one that shuts her up immediately because if she continued sprouting out nonsense then he was going to positively give her a piece of his mind, a piece filled with vulgar language and instruction on where she can shove her advice.

His father took a step closer; his bulky and tall figure looking pretty intimidating to everyone in the room that wasn't Jay Halstead. He could take his dad. He was younger, about the same height, stronger, bulkier and tougher. Jay wasn't the fragile little boy who once cowered away when his father reprimanded, scolded, disciplined and chided him. He was a grown man. He was a man who no longer needed to suck up his father's complaints and insults. He was a man who didn't have to stand and take this. And Mr. Halstead saw that realization come across his son's face; he saw the moment the shift occurred. He took a step towards his son and surprisingly his son didn't take a step back, "Calm yourself, boy."

"Don't call me boy."

"Talking back," an infuriating grin stretched across his father's face, "your mother would be so disappointed by that. Before she died, she told you to mind your manners."

"…and she told you to be a good man, a good father and it seems we both failed her."

For a brief moment he awaited a response from his father and when nothing was said in return, Jay sighed and grabbed Erin's hand, gently –but a little forcefully- pulling her out of the house. She went without argument. No other words were shared between her, Tanya and Mr. Halstead. She watched as he closed the front door behind them before he turned to her, his eyes boring into her own. After another brief moment, his arms are drawing her into him, enveloping her into a hug that he needed more than ever.

"I'm sorry," Jay started, his voice desperate and hoarse as he buried his face into the side of her head; her curtain of hair shielding his face from the approaching crowd and chatter –the paparazzi, "I…I'm sorry Erin," he said, "I would understand if you wanted to call this quits."

Erin's heart broke at his words.

"I won't try to change your mind. I won't be a bastard ex who releases all your private details just for a payout. I'll go cordially if that's what you want."

"I don't want any of that," she's shaking her head, preparing for an argument, "I'm not leaving you, I made a promise remember," her hand rose to caress the side of his face, "I would never leave you. _Never_ , and that'll never change no matter what," She leaned forward to press her lips against his. Her lips moved against still, frozen lips. Lips that was motionless due to the anger bubbling within him, anger stemming from the approaching paparazzi.

His dad called the fucking paparazzi.

Erin pulled her mouth away and rested her forehead against his hard chest, just inches below his chin. She could hear the commotion starting to surround them. The moment was ruined. The paparazzi were at his father's house, each one of them spread out on the sidewalk for two reasons: 1) her guards wouldn't let them walk any closer and 2) the sidewalk was public property; the front lawn wasn't. She wrapped her arms around his waist in order to hold him in place, closing her eyes and desperately praying that the paparazzi would just take a hint and leave. They didn't. Instead, they started shouting questions.

 _How was it meeting the parents?_

 _How serious are you guys getting?_

 _Do we see a wedding in the near future?_

 _What about a baby?_

 _When is your new album coming out?_

 _How did meeting Jay's father go?_

With him standing wrapped up in her arms, she could feel his body tensing up with each question being asked. His dad had called the paparazzi at some point either before they arrived or at some time throughout the short evening. Mr. Halstead's motive was completely unknown, but at this point, a motive, wouldn't mean a thing to Jay. He was far too pissed. She began running her hands up and down his back in an attempt to calm him down, "Just breathe."

"…this is fucking ridiculous, Er," he said through gritted teeth, following her advice and breathing in and out in a sporadic rhythm, "I swear." His arms tightened around her hips.

"You have to even out your breaths babe," she instructed, demonstrating with slow and even inhales and exhales; "See…just like that."

It would have worked if the questions had stopped. It would have worked if his father and Tanya didn't open up the front door. She truly believed it would have worked if one of the paparazzi didn't call out her name. But, because of a combination of all of that, it didn't work and he pulled himself out of her arms and stormed over towards the group of paparazzi.

"Atwater," Erin shouted, pointing towards Jay; he got the message. Don't let him reach them.

The paparazzi and photographers took immediate steps back when they noticed the hands of her boyfriend clench into hard fists. He was moving at a quick pace, taking large steps in an effort to get to them as soon as possible. His intent was clear. His method to inflict harm was obvious. If it weren't for her guard grabbing his arm and pulling him in the direction of the car, he would have swung at the first paparazzi he reached.

"I get it," Kevin asserted, pulling the car keys from Halstead's pocket, "I truly get it, but you can't do that," he unlocked the car before placing the keys back in Jay's hands, "if you do what I think you want to do, you will either get arrested or you'll be plastered all over every media outlet which is the opposite of what you want right now. Just get in the car and go home."

Jay swallowed. His Adam's apple bobbed. He glanced over his shoulder watching his father and his father's girlfriend descend from the porch stairs to walk towards the paparazzi. He averted his eyes from them to his girlfriend who was standing in the same place where he left her, watching him. He relaxed. His shoulders loosened. He chanced a glance at Atwater to nod at him before glancing back at his girlfriend, "Come on Er," he waved for her, "let's get out of here."

-x-

Erin snorted into her wine glass as she listened in on the story the host of the night was detailing about the night. The fundraising gala was coming to an end. And she was pleasantly happy about it. Ever since they left his father's home yesterday, the dynamic hadn't been the same. She gave him time to himself, choosing to sleep on the couch even against his objection, so he could use that moment alone to gather his thoughts and emotions. She wanted to be there for him. She really did, but she knew him and she knew that she had to be careful when helping him through this only because of his view on his emotions –on feeling vulnerable.

Jay's arm was draped around the back of her chair. He had been physically present at the gala, but mentally he was somewhere else. Mentally, he was back at his childhood home. His fingers caressed against his girlfriend's bare shoulder as he thought back to yesterday's events. His dad was getting married to a woman half his age. His dad had given her the ring his mother had worn until her death. He betrayed her. And in doing so, he betrayed his children.

Erin sat her empty glass of wine down before standing up to clap. Everyone in the room was clapping. It was a round of applause to celebrate the amount of money the fundraiser earned by the end of the night. Once again, he was physically present but mentally elsewhere. He couldn't grasp his mind around it. What woman would even want to be with his father? His father was selfish; his father was a lying bastard. He couldn't clear his mind long enough to stand and clap; instead, he remained the only person in the room sitting down.

"Stand up, Jay," she asserted, before offering her hand to help him up. Instead of using it to get up, he grasped it firmly and pulled her down to sit on his lap. She chuckled. She was lightly buzzed from the open bar and the frequent passing of the wait-staff holding trays of wine glasses.

He buried his face into her neck, "You're warm."

"And we're in public," she swats his arms from around her. Fortunately, everyone was still standing, clapping and focused on the stage. She focused her visual attention back onto the stage, but her words were directed at him, "I told you that you didn't have to come with me. You're distracted and it's obvious how much you don't want to be here."

"Erin…"

"I'm not making you talk about it but can you at least stand and clap."

After rising back onto her feet to join back into the applause, Jay rose with her this time, only for a different reason. His phone was ringing. His brother's name was flashing across the screen. He wiggled it in front of her face before pointing over his shoulder. She heard a faint greeting when he answered as he walked away and maneuvered through the crowd. The host began continuing his final speech, speaking over the round of applause that refused to die down.

"I also want to thank Ms. Voight," he nodded in her direction, "and her family for their generous donation. We wouldn't be still operating if it wasn't for them." She continued to clap even if the smile on her face was a bit too forced. She hated the attention. She didn't want the recognition.

The host continued to call names and announce gratitude for everyone who donated no matter how much or how little. Every donation mattered. When the applause started to simmer down and everyone began retaking their seats, the thought never dawned on her to follow. Jay was still gone. He had left a little over ten minutes ago. She collected her clutch and began making her way through the stream of circular tables organized in the dining hall. She nodded and waved when it was appropriate to the other donors who noticed her and didn't get a chance to personally speak to her face to face. When she made it to the hallway leading to the restroom, she spotted him pacing. His brother was on speaker.

And Erin knew she shouldn't eavesdrop but she didn't want to interrupt the conversation, the good news that Will was sharing. She didn't know much about it because she came in on the tail end of the conversation. All she truly picked up was something about a charity concert he's organizing for District 21. She wanted to walk in on that moment. She wanted to clear her throat, or turn the corner and allow her heels to click and signal her entrance. She wanted to alert him of her presence but she stopped and hesitated the second a new subject was introduced.

"Dad called me."

Her boyfriend started pacing faster, "I don't want to talk about it, especially with you."

"What did I do?"

"You gave your father our mother's ring."

"First, he's our father and secondly, yeah, I didn't think you would care."

"Why the fuck wouldn't I care that you gave our dead mother's ring to our alcoholic father?"

Will whispered, "Jay, calm down."

"Don't tell me to calm down. Don't do that. Because I have every right to be pissed! Do you know that your father proposed to a woman who is young enough to be our sister?" Jay didn't wait for an answer; he continued as the anger continued to build, "Do you know that I introduced Erin to your dad and he decided to call the paparazzi before we got there so they would be out front by the time we left? I keep giving him chance after chance after chance and I'm done! I want that ring back and then I want nothing to do with him."

"Jay…"

"He likes you," Jay interrupts his brother, "if you ask, he just might give it to you."

"If I honestly thought he would listen to me, I would, but we both know he's a stubborn man."

Erin was on the verge of entering the hallway for the sole purpose of consoling and comforting her upset boyfriend. She actually took one step forward, but abruptly stopped at Jay's next words to his brother, "Are you good for anything? You're our manager and you get paid big bucks for that job but you barely do anything but shout and remind me just how disappointed you are in me and want me to change my attitude. Why do I even keep you around? I don't need you to get that ring back; I'll just get Erin to do it."

"Erin?" this confuses both Will and Erin. She's curious about what exactly she can do to get him his mother's engagement ring back.

"Yeah, maybe she can use her lock picking skills to break in his house and take it off her finger."

And after that Erin makes a decision. She turns on her heels and walks away; she's furious, angry, irate and annoyed. That particular piece of information was supposed to stay between them, him and her, just them, not Will and whoever was in the room with him while the call was on speaker. She walked back into the dining hall and spotted her empty seat; it appears that people were starting to leave since the event was over, but Jay was her ride and she couldn't go anywhere without him.

She can take a cab. She has a key to his place now.

No, he would worry if he came back to find her gone.

She'll wait. She goes up to the bar and slides onto one of the empty bar stools. While the main dining hall was clearing out, individuals who weren't ready to leave were starting to crowd around the bar to enjoy the last hour of the open bar. Conversations were held on either side of her, discussing the highlights of the night and being the social person that she is, she would have joined into one of them even if she didn't know the person, but she couldn't find it in herself to try. His brother and his band know about a part of her that she only told Jay about and that scares her. This is how information is leaked to the public. And he doesn't care because it doesn't affect his reputation. It doesn't affect his sales or his job.

She takes a calming breath. She tries to think of a positive which is truly hard for a pessimistic or a realistic person. Maybe Will didn't have the phone on speaker? Maybe after she left Jay swore or threatened him to secrecy? Maybe they wouldn't think it was as big a deal as Erin thought it was? Maybe Will wasn't paying attention and zoned out his brother? Erin felt her shoulders loosen up and her body relax. That moment of anger, the episode of rage was passing by. This wasn't a big deal. She can pick and choose her battles and this shouldn't be one of them. Erin sat her clutch down onto the bar top and released a long exhale of breath that she honestly didn't know she was holding in. Erin turned in her seat to face the crowd, scanning the groups of people mingling with one another about whatever topics that came to mind of the upper class. She finds herself people-watching, taking in the variety of individuals from staff to donors and everyone in between; she found herself absorbed into their conversation, but the sound of glass clinking against the bar top alerts her to something being set down behind her.

"I didn't order this," Erin said aloud after turning around to see a beer in front of her. She couldn't recall ordering a drink, nevertheless a beer, but out of the corner of her eye, she saw him smiling at her as he approached.

"I think I owed you one."

"You don't owe me anything, babe," the smile that stretched across her face was sincere

There were no available seats beside her so he simply moved closer to stand, "I beg to differ."

Because of his close proximity, she could feel his body heat radiating off him every time his leg brushed against hers or his hand rubbed against her knee. She lifted her beer and took a large swig of the beverage before setting it back down, "I'm not mad at you, you know?"

"I'm not so sure about that."

Her eyes glanced down to his hand caressing her thigh, "I was mad," she revises her statement and averts her eyes up to catch his gaze, "emphasis on the past tense of the verb."

"Erin…" he goads.

"I overheard your conversation with Will. I didn't mean to eavesdrop but I went looking for you because you had been gone for so long," she admitted, head bowing in shame, "I heard Will is planning a charity concert because he figures it would be a good way to show your fans another side to you guys. I think that's a good idea."

"It's going to be in Newark in early December."

Erin nods silently as he continues.

"And all of the proceeds will go to a charity of our choosing."

Erin nods again.

"Alright, that's enough," he grabbed the edge of her stool to turn it to face him, "What's wrong, and don't say nothing and don't say you're not upset. I know you pretty well at this point and I know something is wrong so tell me what it is Erin and maybe I can fix it?"

"I heard you talking to Will about your dad too."

"You caught that part?" He took a noticeably large step back and brought his hand up to his face, dragging his palm down it, "You misinterpreted what I said."

"How did I misinterpret you saying you'll get me to break into your dad's house to steal the ring?" She struggled to suppress the rising anger, "That seemed pretty self-explanatory. It's hard to misinterpret a statement that's as blatant and straight to the point as that one."

"I wasn't serious, Er. I was just angry and speaking from emotion."

She didn't give him a response. She just lifted the beer and brought the bottle to her lips.

"Come on Er, we should get out of here." He reaches for her wrist and starts to gently tug her.

"I told you that in confidence," she muttered, setting her empty beer bottle down softer than her anger had expected, "and you told your brother."

"I threatened him to stay quiet."

"And how do you know that he will?"

"You'd be surprised the long list of things I know about Will that I've been waiting forever to be able to hold over his head. The opportunity just so happened to present itself."

"Just for the record I'm not supporting blackmail," she slides off her stool and adjusts the skirt portion of her dress, "but I approve of your methods Mr. Halstead."

He smirked, "Anything for my lady," he whispered; his hot breath ghosts over her neck making her shiver despite the lack of chill in the room.

And she felt somewhat relieved that hopefully Will would keep his mouth shut. She didn't need any type of headline coming out that would impact her dad's percentage in the polls. It's November and a year from now will be election night. The last election night her father will experience because if he were to win, after these next four years, he'll be retiring from politics.

He would deserve it.

He's done a lot for the people only for the country to remain somewhat divided with people putting party over country. He deserved the break.

Erin closed in the small distance between them and wrapped her arms around his neck. His mouth hovered in front of hers moments after the crowd started to dwindle down and someone accidentally bumped into the back of him. He used it to his advantage. He sealed his warm lips against hers, moving them in sync until they were forced to break away due to a lack of oxygen. Stupid air that the body required to survive. His forehead rested against hers and for the first time since he left his father's house, he felt the tension leaving his shoulders. All he needed was the love of his life in his arms to calm him down.

-x-

Jay was almost finished chopping up some fresh parsley when he felt Erin's arms wrapping around his waist, her head coming to rest between his shoulder blades. She nuzzles her face into his back and her words come out muffled causing him to strain to hear her, "I have something for you babe," he glances down when she starts to unravel her arms from around his waist, "I actually sent one of my guys to make a copy of it," she opens up the palm of her hand.

And he sees it.

It's a key.

"It's the key to my condo," she starts to explain the second he turns around in her arms, completely forgetting about chopping the rest of the parsley, "I figured…I wanted you to be able to come and go as you please. I want to take this next step with you. I have a key to your place and I want you to have a key to mine."

"You didn't have to give me one because I gave you one."

"That's not why I'm doing it," she tucked the key into the pocket of his jeans, "I'm doing it because this is the next step and we're building a life together and a part of doing that is this."

"Thanks…Erin," he whispered, bringing his lips down to peck her forehead, "this means a lot."

"You've been through a lot these last couple of days and maybe we should talk about it; it'll help you get through any rough days up ahead."

"I don't want to even think about that," he wraps his arms around her waist, "not when there's much better things to think about, or better things to do, like me kissing you," he leans down to brush his lips against hers as his hand steadily caresses the side of her face, "the only thing that gets me through my really rough days is thinking that maybe if I don't screw up, I could have the chance to wake up next to you every morning."

"And that's why you now have a key to my place. You can come and go as you please."

Jay grinned just as he turned around to resume chopping up the remainder of the parsley. Once he finished the parsley and pushed it to the side, he grabbed for the rinsed tomatoes and began to chop them into small, fine pieces. He hummed to himself, a melody that lets Erin know that despite the last few days, he's happy, but she couldn't beat down the curiosity within her, wondering about the ring and the true meaning it had with him.

"Jay…" he stops humming, signaling that he's listening, and waiting for her to continue, "Are you really okay?" She notices him sit the knife down, "I just mean…I saw how upset you were about the ring and I know you've been trying to get past it or focus on something else and I guess what I'm really asking is it just because the ring was your mom's that had you so upset?"

He brushes his hands along his pants, "I uh," he cleared his throat, "my mom wore that ring and you know how much my mother meant to me."

"Yeah I know," she moves in closer, waiting for him to turn and face her, "I also know that there's more. You knew Will had it and you weren't too bothered by it, but once you found out your dad had it and gave it to someone else, you almost blew up."

"It's really not important," he turns back around to resume cutting but she reaches for his arm, forcing him to stop and face her, "Don't undermine your feelings. It is important. Whatever it is I want to hear because I saw firsthand just how upset it made you and I want you to trust me with the truth. I won't judge you. I just want to know why it bothers you now when it didn't bother you in the past. I just want to know what's going through your head."

Jay lifted his head and met her eyes. He looked into her hazel orbs and felt himself being mesmerized by her gaze. He inhaled a sharp breath and tucked his hands into his front pockets, "I know I have a reputation and I know I had commitment issues," she couldn't help the smile that graced her face when he referred to his commitment issues in the past tense; she wanted to acknowledge it, but now wasn't the time, "I know I never saw myself settling down or finding a girl that I really saw myself having a future with and that's why I didn't care in the past. I didn't care what Will did with it. I didn't mind him holding it, keeping it and using it. I didn't care at all because I figured that I would never need it, but now…" he drifted off and she moved in closer.

"But now…" she prodded with a soft nudge.

"But now I want it. I'm not proposing. I'm not hinting to when or if I will ever propose but seeing that ring on her finger made me know it didn't belong there. It belonged on yours one day and to know that it'll never be on your finger did something to me. It…it pissed me off and I just wanted to hit something because it's not fucking fair that he gets to keep it and give it to someone he honestly probably doesn't even love and I think he did it to spite me. But, she doesn't deserve that ring. It's an antique. And I trusted Will to hold it, my mom trusted him too."

"Jay," she whispered the second he lifted her left hand.

"I don't know when or if I'll ever be ready to get married but seeing that ring on her finger put things in perspective and I wanted that for you, but she's wearing it and it's tainted now and that's it…that's what that ring meant. Sounds pretty stupid, huh?"

She's silent for a second too long and his head hangs low. She's seen such a change in him from the moment he bumped into her outside that coffee shop in April, and now in November, he giving her a key to his place and suggesting marriage at some point in the future. Erin can barely breathe; she's clutching her chest with her hand resting over her heart and the second she notices her silence stretched out for a little too long she speaks, "No," she answers his question, "that's not stupid at all. That's one of the smartest, most genuine and sincere things I've ever heard."

She looked at him. She really looked at him. She looked into his blue eyes and she saw everything his words couldn't say. He wanted that ring for their future. He wanted that ring for her. He may have had no plans to propose any time soon but he actually thought about it, the thought has crossed his mind and cemented itself into the crevices of his brain. It was so firm that he was pissed and thinking of every possible plan and way in which he could get the ring back just to hold it until he's ready to slide it onto her finger.

God, this woman will be the death of him.

He immediately closes in the distance between them, smearing his lips against hers, forcing her back and out of the kitchen until the back of her legs hit his dining room table. She sits upon the unsteady piece of four-legged furniture and begins to pull at whatever article of clothing that gets in her way –whether it's on her or on him. Articles of clothing are thrown over their shoulders, onto lampshades, the floor, chairs and really any piece of furniture that had the unfortunate luck to be in a landing position for their shirts, pants, socks and shoes.

She hops further onto the table, crawling back and laying back and Jay knows that after this moment, he'll never look at this table or this room for that matter the same. She's embedded herself into every part of his life, into every room in his penthouse. Her scent was seeped into his pores. Her voice and smile was embedded in his memory. Every aspect of his life was intertwined with that of Erin Lindsay Voight and he surprisingly found no problem with it.

"Erin," it's a whispered oath, a promise and then he's pushing forward and stretching her in the best and the most fulfilling way possible. Her nails dig into the table as she struggles to search for something, anything to hold. She cried when he slipped inside her; she moaned when he pushed forward. He buries himself inside of her and then stops, forcing her to peel her eyes open.

"Why aren't you moving?"

His eyes are slammed shut, "Erin, I…I can't be…I can't go slow. I can't be gentle." He swallows hard. She runs her hands over the back of his and grips his forearms in an effort to use him to pull her body upwards. She gasps and moans when the movement causes for him to slip deeper inside of her. His eyes slam shut again, "Shit."

"I love you Jay," she suppresses the urge to moan, "and I need you to move." She releases his arms and lets her body fall back against the table just as he pulls out and then slams back in. She gasps when the table rocks beneath her.

He opens his eyes to look down at her, "I love you too."

His movements are erratic. He's pumping his hips forwards and backwards, in and out and in and out. The table is creaking; he fears it'll give out. He's pushing it to its limit. Jay dropped his forehead to Erin's shoulder, squeezing his arms around her waist a little tighter as he fucks her hard into the table. He lifts himself up and runs his hands down her legs, gripping her thighs to pull her closer to the edge of the table. He pumps faster. He circles her bundle of nerves roughly as his hips piston against hers. She stared at him, watching the concentration in his face and the clench of his jaw as he slammed into her, "I…" she wanted to say something, anything, but she couldn't. And that did wonders to his male pride and ego.

"Erin!"

Her name fell from his lips and before long, he was pounding into her, his hands bracing himself as they rested on either side of her head. Jay nearly collapsed on top of her when he juddered and released his seed into her welcoming body. He sighed in absolute bliss, nuzzling his face in the crook of her neck as her hand came to his back to trace nonsensical patterns along his slick skin.

As their passion for one another simmered down and they slowly fell from their high together, her face buried in the crook of his neck, warm breath puffing out harshly against his skin, he was disinclined to move. That warmth, that security, that bone-deep feeling of pure ecstasy he felt while wrapped up in her was absolute heaven. All Jay knew –which kind of freaked him out- was that he wanted to spend the rest of his mornings like this, he wants to spend all his days with her in his arms and by his side. When you've never felt like this before, it's natural to be scared, it's normal to be afraid that this moment, this feeling and all of this undeserved bliss could be taken away from you at any moment.

"I love you."

Those three words burned his tongue, completely scorched his taste buds, but he couldn't keep them to himself; she already knew how he felt. And he wanted to keep reminding her.

"I love you so much."

And to utter them while still inside of her, where they're both naked and vulnerable and absolutely, completely, whole-heartedly in love made the sentiment that much more meaningful.

Erin shifted beneath him, a sleepy smile on her face as she looked up, reached up and ran her fingers through his hair, "I love you too."

He turned his head and placed a soft kiss against her wrist as she moved her hand from his hair to trail along his jaw; he followed that last kiss with a soft kiss to her lips.

While she was distractedly caressing the side of his face, he carefully pulled out and lifted her up into his arms. He didn't care about the unfinished dinner sitting on the kitchen counter. All he cared about was the nakedly warm woman in his arms, the one that he was carrying to his bedroom and the same one that apparently claimed a side of the bed as her own. She shuffled beneath the covers and he crawled in behind her, being the big spoon to her little one. He had every intention on enjoying this moment because the next week was going to be busy –charity dinner, flying out to Los Angeles, and the award show. He tightened his arm around her waist and pulled her even tighter against his chest; his fingers traced designs and patterns along her flat stomach as he began brushing the softest of kisses against her bare shoulder, "Jay."

He stops kissing her momentarily, "Hmm?"

"You left the food out."

"We'll worry about that later," he resumes pressing kisses along her collarbone, "Go to sleep." She relaxes in his embrace and does just as she's told, with him drifting off a few seconds after she did.


	36. Lady in White

Erin had a glow about her. She was the bell in the ballroom. Her smile brings radiance to her face casting her in an innocent glow. That smile; the crack in her mask is irresistible to him. Her infectious and contagious smile that she's spreading to every person she walks past. Jay follows closely behind her, not wanting to be too far away from her because they were planning to leave the charity dinner soon. It took them three hours to drive to Indianapolis for a charity event hosted by one of her longtime friends –Mayor Peter Stone. It'll take just as long to drive back, maybe a little shorter, since they don't have to worry about traffic. She had donated –he did too- and before they could actually leave, she wanted to see her friend who was a social butterfly throughout the night, never sitting down for a long period of time and going from person to person to greet them and advocate for the charity of the night.

Peter had been wrapping up a conversation when she appeared behind him. She bites down upon her lower lip and taps his shoulder until he whirls around. A smile that involves her eyes portrays the genuineness of her friendship with him –a friend Jay has never heard of until they were road tripping the three hours to Indianapolis. He felt his shoulders tense however the curve to her smile always sets everything right. His shoulders relax even as Peter's arms circle around her waist and lift her into the air as she squealed. He set her back down and steadied her, "I'm so glad you made it, Er," he pulls her into his arms, hugging her tight, "how are you?"

"I can't complain," the dimples in her cheeks appear, "how are you? This event is wonderful. You've done an amazing job. I've always said you had a knack for event planning."

As Jay listens to their conversation and watches them interact, he thinks back to their conversation in the car and how Erin debriefed him about the charity of the night and about her friendship with Peter. Never did she mention how much her friend likes to flirt and touch. Every point in the conversation, his hand was somewhere on hers, whether it was her waist, her shoulder, her wrist or just casually holding her hand. He's a bit too handsy for Jay's liking. This guy liked her; he had a crush. That much Jay could tell just from a casual observation. He was probably hoping no one would notice how affected he was by Erin's smile even after all these years. He hadn't said a word or noticed his presence, but it doesn't last long once Halstead clears his throat.

"I'm sorry," Erin excused herself, looking at Jay with honest regret, "How rude of me? I didn't introduce you," she took a hold of Jay's hand firmly and her voice held that hint of pride when she added with a smile, "Peter, this is my boyfriend, Jay Halstead," Erin looked from the mayor to Jay, "and this is Mayor Peter Stone. I've known him since law school. He was a year above me. And I actually campaigned for Peter earlier this year, I think?"

Peter nodded eagerly, "Yeah, it was earlier this year."

Jay stretched out his arm, giving the mayor a firm handshake and a condescending smile. Even though Mayor Stone was polished, confident and poised, Jay had felt some kind of off-putting energy lingering around them. Jay observed the way Peter looked at his girlfriend; he saw the once over he gave her, he witnessed the look of longing on his face and he saw a look, one that he recognized because he's held it countless times, it's a look of knowing, of knowing what she felt like in his arms, what her lips tasted like in a kiss, of how her body shuddered when her body reached the inevitable release that dedicated passion would bring. His relationship with Erin exceeded beyond friendship. He knew her on an intimate level. That much Jay was sure.

Peter took a hold of his hand and gave him a firm hand shake, one masked in masculinity as they tried to out-shake the other -whatever that means. Peter is the first to pull his hand away to tuck it into the front pocket of his gray suit pants, "I've been trying to convince your girlfriend for the past two years to relocate over here and work with me on starting our own charity, bridging relationships between the community and the police and using that law degree of hers to work the system in our benefit," Peter said with good humor, looking between Jay and Erin with a smile, "however, it seems Erin's just as stubborn now as she was when I met her four years ago."

Some underlying message in his words convinced Jay that whatever Erin turned down, it wasn't just work-related. And before Jay could control it, he instantly developed abhorrence for the mayor who honestly could have been a nice guy.

"I've been following your career Erin and I must say I'm impressed," Peter continued and Jay only wished he would stop talking, "I do hope you'll reconsider a political career sometime in your near future. You'd make an honest politician."

"That's an oxymoron if I haven't heard one," Erin chuckled; she only paused briefly in continuing the conversation to grab a glass of champagne off a server's tray as she moved throughout the room, "And as of right now, I don't think career politics are my thing, but I have been following your career Peter and I must say, you're doing amazing things. I watched your speech at California State University a few months ago on the criminalization of the mentally ill and the stigmas that follow a diagnosis. And I must say, you have one of the kindest hearts and I know since your sister's diagnosis, you've spent time and money on traveling to spread the word and to lessen stigmatization of mental illnesses and I commend you for that," Erin said, genuinely invested in the topic of conversation, "If only those assholes in college could see us now; you're a former district attorney, a current successful mayor, who started his own charity and goes around the country to raise awareness on mental illness while staying up to par on your mayoral duties."

Jay rolled his eyes at that. His expression rested flat, settling on a subtle glare as Peter soaked up the compliment before responding, "Me? What about you? You're a prominent civil rights attorney, an avid charity donator and volunteer and you are the first daughter of the president. I follow your career just as much as you do mine. You've spoken at colleges, you've given graduation speeches. You speak at public events, stressing the importance of community-police relations, health care, climate change and so much more. I've always loved how passionate you can be about the things you love. And that's just the surface things, events that I can easily google, no one really knows much about your regular charitable contributions to my charity every year –one you attempted to do under a false name."

"How'd you know?" Erin questioned suspiciously.

He shrugged; his lips twitching up into a smile, "We may haven't spoke in a while, but I know you and when you donate the same amount every year on the same day, my birthday I should add, it seems a little personal like whoever the anonymous donor is may know me."

"…or they could simply know someone who benefits from your cause?"

"Nah," he gave a half shrug, "I know it's you, but if you prefer to stay anonymous then we'll do it your way," Peter leaned forward to brush a loose curl behind her ear.

Halstead tried his absolute hardest not to roll his eyes at the topic of conversation, at the way Peter was looking at his girlfriend, buttering her up in a way that seem to approach the fine line between flirting and just being overly friendly. He was happy that Erin was reunited with her college friend, he truly was, but he couldn't help but feel a little left out. He had nothing to add to this conversation and it was obvious that Peter wanted to keep her attention trained on him.

He tucked his hands into his pockets and it's like Erin sensed something was wrong because she took a step back and looped her arm through Jay's arm, "You alright, babe?"

"Yeah, just tired…" he lied, stretching the truth by adding a yawn to the tale.

She nodded and sighed a bit glumly. She hadn't seen her friend since early in the year, before she and Jay met, and she didn't know when she would see him again. She stepped towards Peter and smiled sadly, "I guess we should be heading out," she watched the smile on her friend's face fall, "it is always a pleasure seeing you, Peter."

"We can't wait so long to see each other again," he says, grasping her hand gently with his fingers, lifting it to kiss the back of her palm with his lips, "I miss you. Next time you're in Indiana or nearby, call me. We have to do brunch one day if our schedules permit."

"Of course," she agrees before waving him off. He had other guests to greet. However, Peter didn't budge right away; instead it took for Jay to pull her hand out of his hold for him to get the hint, "She said of course buddy, what else you waiting for? Go attend to business."

Erin was embarrassed; especially the moment Peter's eyes met hers. She nodded for her longtime friend to go on –she'll be fine- and the second she turned around to give her boyfriend a piece of her mind, she discovered an absence or a lack of Jay's presence behind her. She glances around only to see him exiting the ballroom and entering an empty corridor. She lifts the bottom of her red gown and picked up speed to follow after him, "Jay," she calls out; he must doesn't hear because he's still walking, "Jay," he continues walking, "JAY!"

He comes to a stop but he doesn't turn to face her. He says nothing. The hallway is eerily silent.

"That was rude," she scolded, picking up her pace until she caught up to him; the only sound in the hallway is her voice and her heels, "What's your problem?"

"You slept with him!" He immediately turns around and the accusation in his voice hits her hard.

"Wait, what?"

"You slept with your friend." He calms down when he notices the look on her face. However, her silence or the fact that she didn't quickly deny his allegation sends the tension from earlier back into his shoulders.

"Is that what this is about?"

He notes that it isn't a denial. It's an answer to his statement –it's just in the form of a question.

Jay whispered, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because it wasn't important, it's in the past and it was a one-time thing!"

He responded through gritted teeth, "The way he was looking at you didn't make it look like a one-time thing!"

"It happened twice," she underplays it by shrugging her shoulders, "Just two times, but never since me and you knew each other, never since we met."

"When?"

"Are you serious right now?"

"When?"

"Do you honestly want to know about my past sex life?"

He repeats himself, this time more forceful, "When, Erin?"

"The first time was back in law school. We had both just gotten out of relationships and we comforted one another. One thing led to another and we slept together. The day after we just pretended like nothing happened." She found herself explaining even though she owed him no explanation. It was in the past. It was way before they even met each other.

"And the second?"

She didn't hesitate to answer this time, "It was when I was helping him on his campaign for re-election."

"And when was this?"

"…back in February."

He shouted, "Erin!" A mask of disappointment, a look of hurt crosses his face.

"What? I'm no saint!"

"I'm not saying that you are, but you should have told me."

"It was two months before we even met. And besides, you don't tell me about all the people you've slept with and I prefer to do the same."

"None of the women are friends of mine."

"We rarely see each other! I haven't seen him since February!"

"You had a whole history with this guy and I didn't even know about it. You had me looking like an idiot, shaking his hand while this whole time he's seen you naked!"

Now she's rubbing her temples and she's starting to pace in frustration and annoyance, "Don't you think you're overreacting just a little?" It was all in the past. It would _never_ happen again.

"Why are you defending him?"

"Jay, what is your deal? The way you treated him for something in the past was rude."

"I'm your boyfriend," he growls with his fists clenched. She grabs his hands and he relaxes and lowers his voice, "the guy was all over you, Er. I had to set him straight."

She shot him a cold stare, "You had to set him straight? Why is that? Is it because I am unable to make it abundantly clear to men that I'm taken, that I'm with someone else, that I love someone else and I'm not fucking interested?" She was starting to get angry; she was starting to yell.

He had pushed a button –a button that he clearly didn't want going off. She released his hands and resumed her pacing. And the speed of her pace steadily increased as she looked at him, waiting for an answer, "That wasn't a rhetorical question."

"I know you are but guys like him don't get the hint."

"Guys like him?" she repeated, coming to an abrupt stop, "You don't even know him. You didn't even try to get to know him. You didn't even give him a chance! And why? Because you're jealous! I just wanted to catch up with him, that's all. I just wanted to reminisce and talk about old times! I just wanted to catch up with an old friend. I'm dating someone. He's dating someone. We're both happy in our relationships with _other_ people."

"Oh…"

His response catches her off guard. She stops pacing and looks at him in disbelief. After their whole argument, that's all he had to say. No, she needed more.

"Oh?" She repeated his last remark, "Is that really all you have to say? Why were you so rude?"

"I just saw the way he was looking at you and I thought, considering whatever past you two had and what you tried to keep from me I thought he was…I thought you were-"

"Wait, wait, wait!" Erin practically shouted and Jay immediately shut up, "You're kidding me right now. Are you fucking telling me that you thought I was going to sleep with him?"

"Shit Erin," he muttered, running his hand through his hair, "No, I just…I just don't want to lose you. _Ever_. And the guy seemed like a threat and because of that, I got a little jealous."

Erin wanted to stay angry; she wanted to continue fuming and pacing and shouting but she couldn't. She found his answer somehow calming her down. She found herself appreciating the honesty. Without any control of her actions, she decided against fighting the smile that threatened to spread across her face, "A little jealous?"

He relaxed, knowing he wasn't in trouble anymore. "Okay, a lot jealous," he admitted.

She appreciated the personal growth within her boyfriend. She remembered the last time he had gotten jealous when they were on a date at a cooking class and he couldn't even admit it. He thought admitting it would make him vulnerable and weak. It's amazing what time would do to a person. She calmed down and took slow, measured steps towards him before wrapping her arms around his neck, "You have absolutely nothing to be worried about, do you hear me?" She could feel him nod against her shoulder, "You're never going to lose me. I don't want anyone, and I mean that, I don't want anyone but you Jay. You're amazing. You're perfect."

"I'm not perfect," he slowly withdrew from her arms.

"You're perfect for me."

And like previous discussions he's had with her, the right words seem to always fall out of her mouth when he needed to hear them the most. Jay may have withdrawn from her arms, but after her words, he regretted that immediately.

It takes approximately ten seconds for him to run his thumb along his bottom lip, weigh the pros and cons of his next thought and deciding to take action. He takes three long steps across the room, pulls her into his arms and kisses her hard. Jay walked her backwards until her back hits the door to a public restroom, the door swinging backwards, allowing them to stumble inside. His hand wraps below her ass and he lifts her up and places her onto the counter; he stands between her opened legs. He makes quick work, lips still on hers, his hands remove themselves from her body and begin working his belt, unbuckling it, unbuttoning his slacks and pushing the fabric down to his knees.

They didn't know how much time they were working with; this was the only bathroom –male or female neither of them knew which one they stumbled into and neither cared enough about it to stop kissing and take a look around to find out. Time was of the essence. Her guards would come looking for them sooner or later and after having her mother walk in on them, the last thing they needed was for one –or all four- of her guards to barge into the unlocked restroom.

Both of them seem to be on the same page –rushing. Erin feels him pull her towards the edge of the counter and before she could register the slight burn from her skin that sliding across the countertop so fast had caused, he was entering her in one solid, hard and deep thrust. Her mouth involuntarily opens in a silent plea; he continues to kiss her hard. He was rough. He was strong. He was jealous. He was protective. He was possessive. All of this contributed to this moment.

"Move," she growled.

He pulls away and pushes back into her, bringing sparks to her eyes, her breasts bouncing with the movement. He sets a steady pace, filling her up.

"Fuck," he grunts in front of her and she arches, closing her eyes and taking in the overwhelming sensation that the drag of his member inside of her has caused. She can feel the pressure, the pleasure and the intensity coiling in her stomach, "You have nothing to worry about," she whispers as her nails raked down his back, catching in the fabric of his shirt with every drag of her fingers. She gripped his shirt tighter when the coils in her lower stomach started to unravel, started to push her over the inevitable edge of bliss and passion.

And when she fell from her high, he did too. Her body pulsated around him. Both are out of breath and flushed. She held onto him and he held onto her, maybe a tad tighter than her grip. She moved her head, angling it in order to press her lips against his, but he moved his head away. For some reason, he was unable to meet her eyes. Even as he pulled out of her and adjusted his pants, he couldn't look at her. That was, until she gripped his chin and turned his head to face her, "You know I love you, right?"

"I do," he nods.

"And I'm not going anywhere."

He smiles; it's a little weak, "I know."

"I mean it."

The smile became more genuine, "I know. And the same can be said for me," he brushed a quick kiss against her lips, before extending his hand towards her, "come on, we should get out of here before someone walks in. And besides, I need to do a little packing before we leave for Los Angeles in a few days."

-x-

Erin gripped the railing outside of a private jet rented by the band to transport them from Chicago to Los Angeles. With careful steps, she walked up the narrow stairs, with two guards in front of her and two guards behind. She was tired. The sun hasn't even come up yet. She'll have to get sleep on the plane because the time they land and check into a hotel, it'll be time for her to get ready for the awards. She takes another step up the stairs and her foot slips off the edge. Atwater, behind her, grabs her waist to steady her as her heel falls to the ground.

"I got it," Roman who was trailing up the rear announced.

"Sorry," she whispered, coming to a stop on the stair as she waited to be passed her shoe, "I don't know where my head is at right now. I'm all discombobulated."

The door to a limo slams shut, "It's too early for big words," Rixton complained, dragging his suitcase over to one of the flight attendants.

"Dude, are you drunk?" Jay grumbled, assisting Will with removing their luggage from the taxi that drove them from Natalie and Will's house to the airport.

Jay's question went ignored as Rixton dragged his feet over towards the stairs. He gripped the railing and squeezed through the people already standing on the stairs, waiting to board. Rixton was not in the mood; the steps to get on the plane were narrow and the railings shook but it didn't bother him much as he slid his body through Erin's guards. However, he never made it onto the plane because by the time he even attempted to slide past Erin, two of her guards grabbed his arms and held him back –it was the two he already maneuvered past.

"Hey," he complained; he squint his eyes even though there was a lack of sunlight; his headache was made worse when Roman removed the sunglasses off his head.

"Wait your turn," Atwater ordered, setting the heel onto the stair and steadying Erin by holding her shoulders as she slid her foot back into her shoe.

A humorless smile escaped her, "Thanks."

Once the shoe was safely secured back onto her foot, all movement continued. Kim and Natalie leading the line walked onto the small private plane. They were followed by Sorensen and Dawson, before Erin and then Atwater and Roman and finally Rixton. She maneuvered through the short row of seats. Rixton had flopped down into the first one he saw. She moved towards the back, the further away from him she was, the better for everyone. She sat in the second to last row, near the window while her guards took hold of the row in front and behind her. The seat beside her remained empty awaiting the behind of her boyfriend. She watched him outside, talking with Will, Ruzek and Mouse, about who knows what. It was too early for her to be curious. She leaned her head against the window since his shoulder was currently not present to provide her with some type of comfort. Her eyes fluttered closed and only reopened the second she felt him adjust her body, gently pulling her from leaning against the window to lean against him. His arm circled her shoulders, caressing her upper arm as he laid a soft kiss against her head.

The flight from Chicago to Los Angeles was supposed to be four hours. She had planned to get a four hour nap in, but the way Rixton's hangover works; it's if he cannot rest, then neither can anyone else. He was currently grunting and groaning from the front of the plane because apparently the wind caused turbulence and the turbulence caused his headache to increase in pain. She had gotten about two hours in before she started stirring awake. Her eyes fluttered open, "Jay, is this your friend's first hangover?"

"Nope," he sighed; he wasn't able to get any sleep. It's a little difficult for him to sleep on planes, "he's just acting like a little bitch because he forgot to bring ibuprofen."

"Does he have to make everyone else suffer?"

Jay tightened his arm around his girlfriend and snuggled her up closer to his chest. He didn't respond to her question, at least not directly, instead he shouted, "Rixton!" he waited for the keyboard player to turn around in his seat and lean his head into the aisle, "Shut up! It's not our fault you decided to challenge your tolerance level with alcohol last night!"

"I'm suffering right now!"

"Suffer in silence, you're bothering people," Jay retorted.

Rixton covered his ears and attempted to suffer his hangover in silence. The last two hours on the plane went by smoothly because of this. Erin was able to finish off her nap in silence with Jay gently brushing the tips of his fingers against her shoulder. It tickled a little. It wasn't enough to wake her from her nap. However the hard landing the plane did on the tarmac was enough to pull everyone from their sleep and cause an already in pain Rixton to groan loudly. Erin actually felt bad for the guy –not bad enough to actually do anything about his discomfort. The landing was rocky enough for the pilot to come over the intercom and apologize. No one on the plane really wanted to hear it. For the first time since cuddling up in her boyfriend's arms, Erin pulls away to slide her heels onto her feet, "I think I rather fly coach next time."

"Well you'll have to fly private jet one more time when we go back home."

She glared at him, "Between the turbulence, the landing and Rixton's whining, I'd take my chance in coach with a toddler kicking the back of my seat."

"It wasn't that bad," Jay laughed.

"It was close."

Slowly, but surely, everyone files out of the plane and carefully take the narrow steps down to the ground. Rixton has never been happier to be on land. Even with the shouting fans and the paparazzi in the distance, he was grateful to be off the flight and onto a solid and sturdy surface.

"Oh great," Kim sighed, intertwining her hand with her husband's, "who called the paps?"

"Our ride can't even get in because they're blocking the entrance," Natalie groaned, as Will furiously dialed a number on his cell phone. Their luggage was being unloaded from the plane as they waited to figure out what's to be done about their ride, the paparazzi and the fans.

"Guys," Will hangs up from his brief phone call, "be prepared for the paparazzi and fans to come in. The car can get through if they're not in the way." Just as he gives the warning, the crowd moves in –the paparazzi faster than the fans since they get paid for every good photo taken.

Erin moved her head from side to side to work out the stiffness in her neck. She wasn't too worried about the approaching paparazzi and fans. She had four large men protecting her. As for everyone else, it was basically every man for himself. She stood up straight, placed one hand on her hip and used the other as a visor to block the sun from her eyes. Fans were closing in on them, holding magazines and pens out with the purpose of practically forcing the band to sign autographs. Ruzek moved his wife behind him. Rixton rubbed his temples. Natalie and Will stepped to the side knowing neither one of them were wanted by the fans. Mouse moved towards the staff of the plane, offering help to unload their luggage from the storage compartment. Jay, maneuvered through her guards to take her hand; he wanted to get her in the approaching vehicle before the chaotic fans and overwhelming paparazzi get closer.

Just as the car is parked and Erin and Jay step through her guards, the swarm of people have arrived. It's a flooding crowd. People are screaming, pushing and shoving each other out of the way just to get a picture, a video and an autograph. Jay's hand found her lower back as he started guiding her through the crowd. He heard Rixton attempting to silence the screams so his head would stop pounding but it was a fruitless effort; they seem to have only gotten louder. The crowd was swarming around them, closing in, accidentally knocking Kim out of the way and away from her husband. Ruzek happened to push two fans to the side in an effort to reach his wife. Jay dropped his hand from Erin's lower back and swooped his arm around her shoulders, he pulled her against his chest just as someone accidentally bumped into her. She stumbled away. And all he saw was red. His short fuse, his hot temper and his anger peaked causing for him to grip the man –a paparazzi who had dropped his camera- by the arm and shoving him as far away as his strength would allow. The guy stumbled backwards until he lost his footing and landed on his behind. Jay glanced up and met the eyes of his girlfriend –her worried eyes immediately calmed him. She squeezed through the fans that closed in on him, she grabbed his hand and started to yank and if it wasn't for her guards, then the couple wouldn't have made it to the car without a few bumps and bruises.

Atwater had practically lifted her up and thrown her over his shoulder as Dawson, Roman and Sorensen cleared the way for Jay. Her feet didn't touch the ground until they were at the car. Kim climbed in first, followed by Rixton, Mouse, then Erin and finally Jay. Will and Natalie were calming the crowd and doing damage control.

"That was crazy," Burgess whispered out of breath.

"That's California for you," Rixton grumbled, leaning back, closing his eyes and continually rubbing his temples.

Jay shifted in his seat, "Are you okay?" His hands cupped her face as his eyes scanned her from top to bottom. She didn't respond verbally; she simply nodded her head, "Good," he whispered, leaning in and pressing his lips against hers.

"You worry too much," was her reply.

"I don't think I worry enough."

"You didn't have to shove the guy."

"Yeah I did," Jay shrugs, dropping his hands from her face, "he shoved you. It was only right and if anything, it shows all future paparazzi that if they put their hands on my girlfriend then I put my hands on them. There's a better way to get a picture and pushing you to the side isn't it."

It had already been an eventful day and it was only morning. The sun was finally coming up in Los Angeles and even though they had plans for what to do before the awards, just one look on each of their faces had them all in agreement on their next course of action –nap at the hotel.

-x-

Erin had never been more nervous about anything in her life. She'd attended banquets with leaders of other counters, charities with senators and congressmen and women and formal parties with her father – the sitting president- as well as prime ministers, kings and queens.

But this was different, completely different.

For what could have been the first time in her 26 years of life, she was the plus one, she was the date, she wasn't the intended recipient of the invitation. Mounts and mounts of pressure were placed upon her; she had to represent herself as a career woman, as a philanthropist, as a girlfriend to a nominee and as the president's daughter.

For the evening, Jay had chosen a black suit –well technically, Burgess had chosen the black suit. She deserves the credit for the appearance of the band tonight, each sporting pin-stripes, and either black, white or gray suits with varying color pocket squares. Rixton wore a white suit with a red vest and pocket square, Ruzek wore black with a gold vest and pocket square, Mouse wore gray with a navy blue vest and pocket square and Jay wore black with a white vest and pocket square. Each color specified for each band member matched the dress of the date on their arm. Kenny's matched the two dates he held in each arm.

Jay's black pin-stripe suit was tailored to fit and frame his broad shoulders, sculpted chest and delectable ass. She ogled him; she would honestly probably be ogling him all night. The top few buttons of his button-up –three to be exact- were undone.

It's the night of the awards. And her boyfriend and his band were guaranteed to win both.

Her boyfriend hasn't seen her yet. He's too focused on his appearance, standing in the full length mirror with the other band members as he adjusts his pocket square. Once he fixed his pocket square, he grabbed the two ties dangling over the mirror. She's never dressed for such an event. She's never worn an outfit so important because one of the heads up that Natalie and Burgess gave her was that as she walks along the carpet wrapped in her boyfriend's arm, one of the main questions asked of her by interviewers will be queries into who she is wearing for the night. She hoped she didn't disappoint.

Erin stepped further into the main room and the sound of her heels against the tiled floors alerted them all to her presence. Jay's head swiveled around to take her in and by the look on his face she felt reassured that even if the tabloids and the fashion columns didn't approve of her dress for the night, her boyfriend did. Erin had opted for a white formal two-piece gown with a high neck, open back, long sleeve and a long slit going up to her mid-thigh. The high neck and long sleeve portion of the top was made of white lace while the bottom half, the separate portion of the two-piece formal wear was made of a solid, white satin fabric. The material framed her slender form and the white stiletto heels gave her a height advantage, putting her at an inch or two shorter than her date.

The V-neck neckline of the lace half of her two-piece gown swept up into a turtle neck to fortunately cover up a hickey that her boyfriend had unintentionally given her the night before. The beautiful décor of the dress is embellished in lace. The sweep of the hemline falls down to her feet, but manages to stay loose around her curves. The slit in the side of it grants her the freedom to move around while protecting her modesty. The brush of the train on the skirt portion of her bottom piece is swept up behind her in the fully lined, comfortably fitted gown. There's a built in bra which she's grateful for; she hated wearing bras in the first place so to have one already fit in that was pretty comfortable was icing on the beautiful cake that is her dress. A waterfall braid was plaited around her head with curls cascading around her shoulders.

"What do you think?" she asked, leaning her head to the side in an effort to catch his eyes.

It was a challenge since his orbs appeared to be darting all over her outfit in an attempt to take it all in at once.

"You look beautiful," Jay said, dress pants on and shirt only halfway buttoned, holding up two ties in his hands. Erin nodded towards the right one.

Once Jay wrapped the tie around his neck, she moved in closer to tie it for him. She adjusted it according to his comfort before releasing it to lie flat against his button-up shirt. The couple of the night –according to an article that came out announcing that Erin was RSVP'd as Jay's plus one- was ready to set out for the night at the awards. And she kind of had an idea about how the night would go, but being warned about it and envisioning the night days in advance had nothing on actually experiencing it for herself.

Most of the gathered press was going to be more interested in his personal life than his professional one. That was one of the things told to her by Natalie in the limo on the ride over. It came with bringing a date that was just as famous as the nominee. Natalie never had to worry about it and neither did Burgess. Erin had to find a way to keep the conversation on her boyfriend, on his night and his nominations. This night was all about him in her eyes.

The limo pulled up to the crowded carpet. The noise level outside skyrocketed the second the back of the limousine was opened. Each member of his band stepped out, only leaning in briefly to help their dates get out next. It was amazing just how the noise level got even louder when Jay stepped out, leaning in to take her hand and help her outside of the limo. Erin stood at her boyfriend's side; feeling and watching him squat down to adjust the bottom of her dress. The lights from cameras were blinding her eyes as she took in the scene around her. A multitude of celebrities, successful in different areas of music and production were gathered around and spread out on the carpet, posing for photos alone or with their dates, answering questions from reporters or touching the hands and taking selfies with fans.

"You ready?" Jay asked, offering Erin his arm.

Surprisingly, she was more ready than she originally thought. She looped her arm though his and followed his lead. Jay led Erin along the carpet, pausing until Rixton finished with the photographers before taking the hands of his dates and moving along. He allowed the photographers to get a few shots of Erin alone and ask her the most important question of the night –who is she wearing. She answers with grace, before stepping to the side and allowing those same photographers to capture photos of him. Once they were finished, the photographers motioned for her to join him –they wanted photos of the couple together. He tucks her body into his after wrapping his arm around her waist. After a few more shots, one of him kissing her cheek, another of the two of them gazing at each other and a few of them simply in each other's embrace and smiling at the cameras, Erin moved out of the focus of the photographers, allowing them to capture more photos of the man of the hour –at least the one in her eyes.

Erin moved towards Burgess who was casually standing in the back as Adam answered questions from reporters. While sitting in the limo, waiting at a red light, she decided to follow Kim's lead.

It was proven to be harder than she thought. Kim, for all intents and purposes, was just Ruzek's wife in the eyes of the public. She wasn't famous. She wasn't known. Erin, on the other hand, was known by the public for something besides her relation to the band's lead singer. This made it difficult to stay to the side, to hide back and remain standing with Burgess.

For the first two interviews, she hung back, not wanting to take the attention and the shine away from her date. Her presence sometimes had the tendency to do just that. She watched him speak passionately about his love for music, about how he's more than half way done with writing songs for the next album and what is expected from his music career in the next year. Jay praised his bandmates, offering them the props and praises they deserve since it was often hidden and forgotten behind the leading man –him.

Eventually, and unsurprisingly, the conversation shifted onto the topic of her.

"You're here with your girlfriend, the First Daughter of the United States, Erin Voight," Jay nodded his agreement and reached back to pull her against his side. She tucked herself into his arm to take advantage of his body heat and warm up her arms –albeit covered with long sleeves, the lace served zero purpose in actually keeping the slight chill away.

"Are you a fan of his music?" the interviewer asked, thrusting the microphone in Erin's face.

Jay reached over to lower it a fraction as she answered, "Of course I'm a fan. I've learned the lyrics to both albums in the span of three months."

"What would you say is your favorite song?" the interviewer pressed.

"Of the songs that have already been released, I would have to go with Shockwave."

"You heard it here first folks," the interviewer turns back to the camera, microphone back up to her lips as Jay nudged his girlfriend towards the next interviewer.

Erin felt like the proud girlfriend as she stood back once again and watched him answer questions from the rest of the interviewers –even if some of the questions were repeats.

Plus fortunately, no one else asked her questions. She remained the proud girlfriend that hung back in the shadows with Kim and Natalie as the band received their rightful appreciation and kudos. She actually prefers this event over the many events she had to attend. She likes being a plus-one; she doesn't have to do much. She just follows her boyfriend's lead into the arena and sits in her assigned seat. She's between Jay and Will. And besides the occasional people walking to their seats that stop and speak after recognizing her, she isn't bothered. She does her duty, smile plastered on her face and hand intertwined with her boyfriend's.

And as the night carried on, the awards show started, the cameras began filming and the host took the stage. She laughed when the comedic host went into their opening monologue, making jokes at the expense of celebrities in the audience. She was grateful that not one was in reference to her, but she did find herself laughing when District 21 became the butt of a joke. Her boyfriend shot her a look, one that's a mixture of mock hurt and entertainment. He loved that she was enjoying this. He lifted her hand up to his mouth and brushed his lips against her knuckles.

The show carried on. Celebrities walked out in pairs and introduced the award for the night before announcing the winners of the award. Her boyfriend's nomination was up next but the awards show went into commercial break. She used the opportunity to face him, "Nervous?"

He laughed at that, "Never."

"You got your speech ready?"

He shakes his head, "Nope. I'll just talk off the top of my head."

"You're way bolder than I am," she chuckled and she had every intention of following up her remark with another statement, but someone sitting directly behind her had tapped her shoulder, "Yes?" Both she and Jay turned in their seats to face her even though it was Erin she wanted.

"Sorry for the interruption," the woman bashfully whispered, "I just wanted to tell you that your father is doing a great job in office."

Erin's eyes flashed briefly towards Jay before averting back to the woman sitting behind her, "Thank you. I'll be sure to let him know." Erin turns back around in her seat just as commercial break is over and intermission comes to an end.

Jay found his hand intertwined with hers, and while she knew he was going to win the award, it didn't stop her nerves from skyrocketing through the roof. How was it that she's nervous but he isn't? She glances over at him as the two celebrities who will be announcing the winner for the next category walks onto the stage. She watches him. She sees a sparkle in his eye and a crinkle in the corner of them. He's calm. Meanwhile, her leg is shaking. She cups his hand with the both of hers and brings it up to her lips, "Babe, just relax," he whispers; he remains facing the stage but his words were directed towards her.

"I can't," due to their conversation, they missed whatever joke the two announcers were making.

"Be prepared for some short camera action," he muttered, pulling his eyes away from the stage to take in her reaction.

"What? Why? What does that mean?"

"When we win, the camera will be on us to take in our reaction and when I give my speech, the camera will pan by you to take in your reaction after I dedicate my award to you."

His words catch her off guard. And before she's able to probe further, his band is announced as the winner of the Tour of the Year award and her favorite District 21 song fills the arena as it blends in with the sound of applause. The moment happens faster than she's able to keep up. She stands along with the audience; she's clapping. It's an out of body experience because she doesn't register the cameras on them or Jay briefly kissing her. She's still clapping as everyone takes their seats. She only sits the second Will tugs on her arm.

"Sorry," she whispered; it's the first thing she's said since his band was called.

The applause slowly dies down and if she was nervous before, she found herself ten times worse. Her heart was palpitating. Her palms were sweaty. Kim slid into Jay's previously vacated seat and intertwined her hand with Erin's sweaty palm, "Thank you, everyone!" being the leader of the band and the chosen spokesperson, Jay is holding the award in his hand and speaks into the microphone with such ease, "receiving this award, recognizing our band and our amazing tour is humbling. We appreciate it. _I_ appreciate it. We are honored to be here tonight and grateful to be the recipient of this award. We would like to thank our supportive fans, without you guys we wouldn't be here right now. We would also like to thank and have a moment of appreciation for our staff, you guys are amazing, and most importantly, my baby, my Erin. This award goes to you beautiful, I love you."

As Jay follows the announcers off stage, the round of applause that comes from his dedication to his girlfriend metaphorically rocks the arena. It could be heard on the streets. It's slowly rising to top trending on social media. The camera panned to Erin longer than expected and when it zoomed in and focused on her face, she was clapping and suppressing the tears that threatened to come out. The next two announcers walked onto the stage but the audience wasn't finished clapping. They witnessed it here first, known bad boy Jay Halstead, presented another version of himself by declaring his love on stage, in front of millions watching. He still had another award to win, which was announced thirty minutes later, earning the same reaction although the speech was given by Ruzek this time. Jay remained standing in the back, allowing his bandmate to get a little attention and appreciation. And by the next morning when Jay and Erin are boarding onto a private jet with the band to return home, she falls asleep curled into his chest and the selfie taken and posted by him of the two of them with the caption – _Crazy about her_ \- becomes the most liked, the most shared and the most commented on photo on social media this year.


	37. Thankful For

It's Thanksgiving. It's the time of year where family and friends come together to celebrate thanks, appreciation and gratitude. It's the first time in her life that she's not spending the holiday with her family. Instead, she is traveling with Jay to the Ruzeks' home to spend it with him and his band. Neither of them particularly knew who would all be in attendance, but since food will definitely be provided, Erin couldn't really find herself caring. Jay, on the other hand, could only think about the possibility that his dad and his fiancée would be there. He wouldn't put it past his brother to invite him over since they actually do get along. Jay's feelings wouldn't be considered in the mix because Will would just use his regular argument –he's our dad- to validate the invite.

It seems that was his justification for a lot of things their dad has done.

However, after a late night conversation with his girlfriend, Jay knew not to focus on that. This time of year wasn't the time to dwell on circumstances outside of their control, to focus on the negatives in life or to even ponder about the dilemmas of tomorrow. This time of year was for thankfulness, for family, for friends, for the littlest to the largest things imaginable. It was Erin's favorite holiday –one could argue because it gives her the opportunity to eat overwhelming heaps of food without being judged- but it was due to the humbling moment this holiday seems to always bring. Every year, at least as far back as she can remember, she and her family would venture off to feed the homeless after they had Thanksgiving dinner at home.

This year was going to be the same –just not with her parents and brother. She spoke to Will, Kim and Natalie and each of them thought it was a great idea. Will, more so because it would shed a positive light on the band, but he still agreed. Erin sought a shelter in Chicago, one that she's honestly –and secretly- spent the night in when Annie and her mother were evicted and she convinced her parents to let her stay over Annie's house, unbeknownst to her parents, it was in a shelter. She had squeezed into a bunk with Annie because every bed was full. That was one of the biggest humbling moments in her life. Besides eating, this was something she was truly looking forward to doing, especially with her boyfriend, his band and staff by her side.

By the time they stepped up to the porch, the apple pie in her hands was lukewarm. It would need to go back into the oven for a few minutes to heat up. It was a signature dish of the holiday –along with pumpkin and sweet potato pie- but to be honest; those fell low on her list of must-haves. The covered apple pie in her hands felt like a badge of honor since she and Jay –mostly Jay- made it in his kitchen –their kitchen. She couldn't wait to try it. And if Jay didn't hover over her every second during the prep and creation of the pie, then she definitely would have tried it.

She would have sneaked a crumb. It wasn't a crime. She was willing to argue that point.

Her boyfriend rang the doorbell because it seemed her thoughts were elsewhere. His arm found its way around her waist as they waited patiently for the door to open. And once it did, her temporary guards -Hailey Upton, Laura Nagel and Mark Jefferies- entered the house. Four days ago she sent her guards home so they could spend the holiday with their family. And the second the plane departed with Atwater, Sorensen, Roman and Dawson, another plane landed carrying Upton, Nagel and Jefferies. She wasn't a fan of the latter; she hardly had any freedom with him. He was old school. He was by the book –more by the book than Roman. He hardly even let her go to the restroom by herself. She drew the line there though when yesterday he followed –or attempted to follow- her into the girls' restroom. It took some convincing and some compromise; she eventually had to agree to allow Nagel and Upton to come inside while Jefferies held back any guests in the restaurant they were in at the time. The second she stepped out, she received some not so pleasant looks from a few women who really had to use the bathroom.

It had been a long four days without her guards. She missed them already.

She had already sent out a Happy Thanksgiving text to their group chat. They've been slowly responding throughout the day. Their holiday already seems to be keeping them pretty occupied. Oh, how she wishes they were here or she was there.

There was a draft in the air, a freezing chill ripping through the afternoon. She needed her guards to finish checking the house; she needed them to signal for her to come inside and take their posts around the house. If not, then a threat inside the house wouldn't be her top concern; it would be freezing to death. Fortunately enough for her, Jay remained outside with her. His arm that was draped around her waist had flushed her closer to his chest, providing her a bit of body heat. She was an April baby –a child born in the Spring- she didn't like the cold.

The moment she got the signal and stepped into the house, her smile slowed time in the room. It was something patriotic about having Thanksgiving with the president's daughter. It seems to be the vibe of the afternoon because everyone's looking at her and taking her in as if it's their first time seeing and meeting her. She flashes them a sincere smile; a genuine smile being the language of happiness, understood by everyone in the world and specifically in this room.

Upton had approached her and whispered something into her ear but she had been too distracted to pay attention. And once again, fortunately for her, Jay overheard and answered. She needed to know the time they were planning to go to the homeless shelter/soup kitchen. Once Upton received her answer, she ventured off to her post in the living room. Nagel went to the large bay window in the dining room. And unsurprisingly, Jefferies stood to her side, waiting to follow her in whatever direction she planned to walk.

"You know Mark," she turned to face the older secret service agent, "I _am_ safe in here. You don't have to follow me. You can actually sit with the guys and watch the game."

"I'm fine where I am." His answer was short, simple and straight to the point. And she only sighed loudly when she took a step forward and he followed. It had been an extremely long four days. She wanted her guys back.

As Erin and Jay walked further into the room, the gaze of everyone in attendance seemed to break. Finally, conversation was picking back up and eyes were starting to roam elsewhere. She was the president's daughter. She didn't need their stares reminding her.

"Happy Thanksgiving," was echoed around the room. Back and forth the holiday greeting was shared among the family and friends conjoined together to celebrate the holiday.

Kim had walked over, apron tied around her neck and waist, and she pulled Erin into a hug. In her peripheral, Erin saw Jefferies shift uncomfortably forcing Erin to reach her arm out to calm him, "Mark, you have to chill. Go call your family or something and wish them a happy Thanksgiving," she ordered. And when he didn't move, she sighed.

"I already wished them one this morning."

Erin didn't even feel like arguing; she simply focused on the beaming woman in front of her, "I brought apple pie. Jay and I made it."

"Thanks," Kim took a hold of the pie and handed it over to her husband, "You know you didn't have to bring anything." He took it into the kitchen.

"We wanted to; it's the least we could have done considering you're hosting it."

In this moment, Jay took it upon himself to look around. Erin didn't particularly care; she just wanted a glass of wine and to offer her assistance in tasting any foods. However, when she felt the arm of her boyfriend tighten around her waist, she took it upon herself to figure out why. She scanned the living room –Will, Natalie, Rixton and Mouse. Even Mouse's girlfriend, Hallie, was here. And Ruzek had recently walked back into the room from the kitchen. She didn't find any reason for her boyfriend to tense up.

"Erin! Jay! Happy Thanksgiving." She didn't find a reason until she heard that voice. Damn it. It was his father.

Erin glanced over and watched the man take a seat in an arm chair while his fiancée sat down on the arm of it. She sighed. This holiday wasn't going the way she had intended. She turned in her boyfriend's arms and saw Jefferies approach, "Seriously Mark, you don't need to move every single time that I move," she snapped; she was already growing frustrated because she couldn't read the mind of her boyfriend, she didn't need Mark adding to it.

"Erin, I'm going to be alright." He didn't even believe himself when he said it. His eyes weren't even focused on her. His eyes were staring at the sparkling ring on Tanya's finger.

"What do you want to do?"

At this, he averted his eyes away from the ring and towards his girlfriend, "What do you mean?"

"Do you want to stay or go?"

"After convincing you to spend the holiday with me, we have to stay."

"Not necessarily," she whispered; she didn't want anyone overhearing their conversation, "we could always have a quiet Thanksgiving at your place."

"We don't have any food to cook. I didn't go shopping for a Thanksgiving feast."

"We can stop at the store on the way back to your spot."

He shakes his head and sighs, "No…I uh…I appreciate it though, but we'll stick around. Just play buffer for me."

"I got you," she leaned up and kissed his cheek

For a moment, the two forgot they weren't alone. He was staring into her eyes and she was staring into his. It wasn't until the sound of the volume on the television increased, signaling that the game was about to start that ruined the moment. Jay really wanted to watch the game. The Bears were playing. And fortunately enough for him, he had a girlfriend that didn't mind him stepping away from her to obsess over football.

As he ventured over to the couch, flopping down in the seat between Rixton and Ruzek, Kim was grabbing Erin's wrist and dragging her away –only releasing her hand the second Jefferies voices his disapproval. Erin rolled her eyes and followed Kim the rest of the way into the kitchen. And Jefferies, against her wishes, followed closely behind.

"I need a glass of-" and before she could finish her sentence, Natalie is handing her a glass filled to the brim, "You are absolutely amazing."

"Hey," Burgess argued, "I poured it for you before I let the kitchen to come get you."

"You're amazing too, Kim."

Natalie grunted, "You couldn't just let me have my moment." She joked.

Erin ventured over to the lined up tin foils on the counter. Each was covered with aluminum foil, awaiting consumption. It smelt absolutely amazing in the kitchen. Her mouth was watering and her stomach was starting to growl.

"Do you need any help, Kim?" She offered her services; it was the well-mannered thing to do; however, it was only right for her to follow that up with the truth, "but I must warn you, I've been learning how to cook but I'm far from being the next Bobby Flay."

"I think I have it all handled," Burgess laughed.

And Natalie patted the stool beside her, "You can just join me and Hallie in drinking wine, gossiping and observing."

"Don't mind if I do," Erin set her glass of wine down first before sliding onto the stool. She didn't want to risk spilling it for two reasons; she didn't want to markup Kim's pearly white, tiled floors and she didn't want to waste perfectly good and delicious wine.

Out the side of her eye, she saw Jefferies move over to stand near the window. While he remained in the kitchen, she did appreciate him being a further distance away from her. She needed her guys back. And she didn't hesitate to text them about how much their absence is noticed. Once the message is sent, she pockets her cell.

"So Erin," Natalie sparks up the conversation, "when are we going to meet your parents?"

"I didn't know you had any interest in meeting them."

The spatula in Kim's hand drops, "Seriously?"

"I have to be in on this," Hallie whispered, excitedly bouncing up and down in her seat.

"I mean…if I had known you guys really wanted to meet them, I would have made it happen."

Kim is at the sink, rinsing off the spatula she had dropped. She could barely contain her excitement. Once it was clean enough to her standards, she set it down on her counter. Kim rushed over to her friend, a little too fast because Jefferies moved from the window towards Erin, only for her to wave him away. Burgess apologized and calmed down just enough for Mark to walk back over to his post, "You know I'm a huge, huge, huge, huge fan of yours. Why wouldn't I be a fan of the people that birthed you? I want to meet your parents. For goodness sake, your dad is the leader of the free world! Why wouldn't I want to meet him?"

"He's a bit rough around the edges," she shrugs her shoulders, "and he can be intimidating."

"…not that much," Natalie chimed in and this sparks a laugh from Erin, and surprisingly Mark.

"You haven't met my father," Erin retorted, glancing over her shoulder to meet the eyes of her secret service guard, "Tell them, Mark. He's an intimidating man."

"Don't underestimate Mr. Voight; he'll intimidate the socks off you with just one glance."

Erin nods to back up his statement, "Why do you think Jay avoids any and all events that would cause for him to run into my parents again?"

"That's different," Kim argued, "we're not sleeping with the president's daughter."

"Touché," Erin agreed, "but still, you're guilty by association."

"Well that isn't fair," Kim crosses her arms, but is suddenly startled when the kitchen timer goes off.

Erin slid off the kitchen stool, "Well haven't you heard, Kimberly, that life isn't fair? I'll try to see the next time his schedule syncs up with you guys being in D.C. and see what I can do. Just for the record though, there's no promises or guarantees."

"We appreciate the effort," Hallie is the first to respond.

"…hmm, maybe you all can come over for Christmas dinner? I'll send my mom a text for approval, but I don't see why you couldn't."

All activity in the kitchen seemed to freeze. Each person stood or sat still, minus Erin, but the first daughter found absolute amusement in their reaction. She sometimes forgot that Hank Voight was daddy to her and president to everyone else. He's been a politician for her entire life and he's been president for three years and she's _still_ getting used to it. Maybe by next re-election, she'll be completely used to it. Erin walked over to the fridge and opened it, reaching inside the fully stocked refrigerator to grab a beer. She slammed it shut behind her.

"I'm going to take a beer to Jay," she immediately held her hand up towards Jefferies, "and you stay here, I'll only be gone for a few minutes. Geesh." She rushed out of the room to deliver the beer to her boyfriend. If she were to be honest, she had an ulterior motive. She wanted to check the score of the game, she wanted to get away from conversation involving her father and she needed a break from seeing Mark Jefferies face.

The guys are loud, betting on the game and calling out plays and insults towards the opposing team. This is Thanksgiving –family, food and football. She excused herself between Tanya and the eldest Halstead in order to get to her boyfriend. He looked up at her, face solemn and curious, "I come bearing gifts," she holds out the beer and he gratefully accepts.

"Hey," Rixton calls out the second he see Jay take a large gulp of his beer, "What about the rest of us? I want a beer."

"Go get it yourself," she retorted, earning a high-five from her boyfriend. The men in the room snickered and she found herself joining in. Rixton even flashed a smirk as he rose to his feet to head into the kitchen.

Before she could check the score and depart from the room, her boyfriend's arms wrapped around her waist and with a weak tug, he pulled her down onto his lap. She laughed. He buried his face into the crook of her neck. He managed to pull her into his lap without even spilling his beer –consider her impressed. He took another swig of it. Her eyes flashed up towards the television and the smile on her face expanded when she saw the Bears were ahead –not by much but ahead nonetheless. If they win, her boyfriend's going to be in a great mood.

"Were you having fun?"

She shifted in her seat –on his lap, "Depends on your definition of fun. Your friends want to meet my parents." And this catches him off guard; his brow rising in question, "Don't ask."

"Of all the things you guys could talk about…"

"I know right!" She exclaimed, shifting further in her seat, turning more to face him, "oh and before I forget and head back into the kitchen, my job is having some work, holiday party thing next month and I want you to be my date."

Jay pretends to ponder; he actually acts like there's a chance he's going to say no. She plays her role though. She waits and waits until he smirks and nods, inevitably giving in.

"Do I have to dress up in a suit and tie?"

She takes the beer from his hand and takes a small sip, "Preferably, yes."

"…as you wish," he sighs before taking his beer back.

-x-

It didn't take long for everyone to grab their seats. It took approximately one minute after Kim announced that the food was done for everyone to file into the dining room and sit down. Erin sits between Jay and Kim. She chose the furthest seats from her guards. Even though they sat at the table, it didn't mean she needed to be sitting between them. She sat directly across from Hallie. At the head was Kim and at the other head was Adam; it was only right since they're hosting the dinner and it's their house. Jay's father and Tanya sat near her guards, as far from them as possible -thankfully. Erin reached into her purse and withdrew her cell phone, holding it out across the table for Hallie to take, "Can you snap a picture of us?"

"Sure," Mouse's girlfriend was too eager in her reply.

Jay follows her lead and extends his own phone to Mouse, "And can you take one on mine?"

Erin leaned against her boyfriend; his arm went around her shoulders. The couple was smiling for the camera, taking turns between looking at Erin's phone and then looking at Jay's. And like all good cell phone photographers know, that when you take a picture, you always take multiples to give the person options to choose from. Hallie and Mouse passed them their cell phones back and the couple keenly swipe through each picture until finding the one they're both satisfied with looking at. Without any discussion on it or mention of it, they both upload the photo to their social media and typed out the exact same caption beneath it: _Thankful For._

And the second it was posted, social media unsurprisingly went crazy with fans commenting, reposting, sharing, screenshotting and retweeting it. It didn't go unnoticed that they were celebrating the holiday together and while some of Jay's fans still weren't too happy with him being off the market, each and every day more and more of them were growing to accept it.

"Someone referred to us as their parents," Jay whispered to her, showing her the comment under his Instagram photo, "What does that even mean?"

"I am not traveling into the world of the fandom," Erin replied, commenting a few acknowledgements under the comments from friends or celebrities who held a blue check beside their name, "It's going to confuse you because it confused me. One of my interns tried to explain it to me a few weeks ago and I was completely lost. There are a bunch of people that create pages and profiles that ship our relationship," The look on his face has her continuing; he appears confused, "Like this one," she flipped her phone around to show him after selecting the profile of one of the many people who already commented even though they posted the photo less than ten minutes ago, "they repost pictures we've posted, they post pictures by the paparazzi and pictures we've taken at public and private events."

"Whoa," he takes a hold of her phone, "people are dedicated."

"And that's only one page; there's so many more and don't get me started on other social media sites, ha, we'll be here all day."

The table was full of dishes filled to the brim with an assortment of traditional Thanksgiving dishes. From the right side to the left, casserole dishes sat heated and warm awaiting consumption. Kim had taken it upon herself to decorate her dining room with festive art, dishes and silverware that illuminate the Thanksgiving holiday. As dishes are being passed around, Kim takes it upon herself to dictate the start of the dinner conversation, "In honor of Thanksgiving, I think we should go around and say what we're thankful for…"

A chorus of groans echo around the table. Everyone's hungry. No one's in the mood. This was something new, "Kim, not this year, please, we're starving."

"I don't mind us eating while we do it," she extends her plate as Ruzek carves the turkey, "Come on guys, I slaved over a hot stove for this meal, the least you all can do is give me a sentence or two about what and who you're thankful for."

And without further ado, Erin starts it off, providing a long list of people she's thankful for, including the newly found family she found in her boyfriend's band. It went in the opposite direction, causing for Jay to close it up, stating he's thankful for his girlfriend, his fans, his success and his band. He kept it short and simple, but not as short as Rixton who only stated that he's thankful for his good looks and his talent –a bit conceited if you ask anyone around the table. Her guards had even entertained the idea, citing their families and careers as the two main things they're most thankful for this holiday season. And Natalie gave the most surprising announcement when it was her turn; she's thankful for Will –but in the context of talking about him and her love for him she referred to him as her fiancé.

Congratulations were exclaimed from everyone around the table –even her guards- and most especially from the Halsteads' father and Tanya –with her joking that maybe they could have a double wedding. Jay rolled his eyes. Erin squeezes his thigh.

"Speaking of weddings and proposals and fiancés, we finally chose a date," Tanya announced, but Jay could honestly not care any less, "It'll be at a church an hour outside of Chicago. We're planning it for January 23rd. The invites will be sent out sometime next week so make sure you RSVP as soon as you can. We need a head count."

"I won't be able to make it so you can save the money that'll go into sending mine," Jay informs and suddenly the mood shifts; he shrugs, "Sorry." It wasn't genuine.

"I won't be able to make it either," Erin adds even though she suspects that they already knew that if her boyfriend couldn't make it then neither could she.

The eldest Halstead –their father, cleared his throat and leaned forward, "And why not?"

"I'm busy."

"No, you're not," Will intervenes; he's the band's manager, he knows when events are planned and he knows for sure that the band's lead singer will not be occupied.

"I'm not arguing or debating this. I won't be there. Congrats on your marriage," he spat the last part before continuing, "and I wish you the best. I hope she doesn't leave you the second she finds out that you have absolutely nothing, only that house, you have no money to spoil her," his eyes fall upon Tanya to observe her reaction, "and I know he's the father of the band's lead singer and manager, but he gets nothing from us, isn't that right _dad_?"

Tanya looked at her husband-to-be, "Can we talk?"

And Jay knows that he shouldn't be so satisfied and ecstatic right now, but he is, he really, truly is happy that his father glared at him before following Tanya out into the living room. Everyone knows not to comment despite their feelings and opinions. He resumes eating; the intensity in his glare warns everyone to stay quiet on the topic of his father and Tanya. This was supposed to be a good day and he wanted the earlier mood to come back. He partially blamed Kim for even coming up with the idea of going around the table saying what they're thankful for.

"You want to know what I find funny," Rixton takes a swig of his beer before speaking and he answers even though no one actually responded to his lead in, "I find it funny that you're able to see through Tanya, but you can't see through your own girl."

Each one of her guards is surprised by the sentiment. They're all new to patrolling and protecting her and none of them expected or were prepared for the dynamic between Rixton and Erin. She glanced over at them to see Laura Nagel guzzle down a bottle of cold beer, Mark Jefferies focus a little too hard on cutting up the ham on his plate and Hailey Upton who was actually looking back and forth between her and Rixton as if it was a tennis match. Jay wants to have a good holiday; he practically begged and had to talk Erin into agreeing to celebrate Thanksgiving with him and his friends and family. He wasn't going to let Kenny ruin it no matter how hard he tried.

"It's Thanksgiving. Leave the old Kenny at the door and give her a chance." His voice was tainted in malice and impatience. He wasn't in the mood. He wasn't playing.

His response was a laugh; it was a hearty and deep laugh that originated from the pit of his stomach, "You guys are no fun. I'm looking for a good debate, a good argument."

"…look elsewhere," Erin retorted.

"Oh come on," he's so laid-back and chill as he leans forward; in one hand is his fork and in the other is his beer, "you know we give each other a run for our money. Where's the spunk? Where's the spirit?" He smirks as her eyes stretch into a squint, "You two are getting pretty boring, I mean, I figured the leak of the make out video would make things more interesting, but nope. It seems her dryness is rubbing off on you, Jay. You're not fun anymore."

Rixton was a tad bit tipsy; it's obvious by the fact that he doesn't know when to shut up. His words, although filled with many things to spat with him about, had her focusing on one major point. Erin sets her fork down to focus completely –mind and body- on Rixton, "That make out video…you posted that? You shared that?"

"What make out video?" Jay's having trouble recalling.

"…the one I told you about when I was on Air Force One."

"Air Force One," Mouse repeated in what he thought was a whisper, "so cool!" Hallie slapped his chest with the back of her hand.

"You posted that," Jay slowly turned his head to face Kenny.

And before Rixton could answer or make a smart remark, it's Burgess who speaks up, deciding to claim control of her Thanksgiving dinner, "Alright guys, I get we have some unresolved stuff we need to work through but not right now," she asserts, reaching to scoop more mashed potatoes onto her plate, "not tonight, not today at all. We can resume this another day, but I worked really hard on this meal and I want us to talk about nice things, no name calls, no insults, no smart ass comments, nothing like that," Tanya and the Halstead's father return to reclaim their seats –an awkward tension rests between them, "I just want this day to be different from the rest because we're all together and we're all family and friends and then afterwards we're going to the soup kitchen to do a really nice, charitable thing and then after that we have to board a late flight so with all of that on the agenda, I'm going to ask Jay to drop the attitude and Rixton to just shut the fuck up for the duration of the dinner."

No one argued because everything she said was the truth. After eating they're supposed to go to a soup kitchen to serve the homeless; it's why they're having Thanksgiving dinner a little earlier than usual. Erin extended an invite to Kelly; she really wanted him to come to the soup kitchen; she missed a familiar face. No one argued with Kim because she spoke nothing but facts. Jay did need to drop his attitude and Rixton did need to just shut up –it seems he never knows what to say out of his mouth anymore. He's getting worse and worse. No one rebutted or argued with Burgess because she opened up her home and prepared the food without any complaints. It was the least they could do. With the day already planned from morning to late evening, there was no time for argument or fuss or bitching and moaning. They all had a red-eye flight to catch. The band was going to Newark for their charity concert and Erin and her guards back to D.C. She had used up all, but two, days of her vacation time from work. It wouldn't be renewed until the New Year which was a little over a month away. She had to preserve those two days for Christmas and New Year's Eve; fortunately the eve of Christmas fell on a Sunday and of the seven days out of the week that was her scheduled days off where it wouldn't affect her vacation or sick leave.

-x-

Most people assume the best time to volunteer at soup kitchens were holidays where in fact that's a common misconception. Since everyone seems to want to do their one selfless act during the holidays, it's always overcrowded with volunteers. Other days, non-holidays, were the days the soup kitchen needed it the most since there was a lapse in volunteer-work. Erin knew all that to be true, hence why for the holidays, her family would go days before or after the main holiday and occasionally on the day of; however, since today is Thanksgiving and it's the first time the band has ever volunteered at a soup kitchen, she wanted to give them an authentic and memorable experience.

The woman in charge, Carla, handed out hairnets, latex gloves and responsibilities. On food serving duty, Carla had chosen Erin –to serve macaroni and cheese, Jay –to serve carved turkey, Adam –to serve stuffing, Kim –to serve rolls and cranberry sauce and Kenny –to serve ham. Mouse was on drinks duty. He stood at a circular table, setting down empty cups and filling them with water, iced tea, or lemonade for the people to grab a cup of their choosing after making their way through the food line. Natalie and Will were at the dessert cart, tasked with cutting up each pie –apple, pumpkin, cherry and sweet potato- and placing them on individual saucers. Just prepping for the night was a humbling experience. Low income families and homeless individuals weren't in yet –the doors didn't open for another ten minutes- but setting up for the occasion settled a genuine sense of holiday cheer and compassion to all in the room.

In the kitchen preparing the food were everyday citizens who weren't famous but had simply wanted to volunteer. Erin suspects Carla set it up like that on purpose, putting the recognizable faces out front for the publicity and the recognition for the center. Whatever the reason it may have been, Erin honestly didn't care. She had more pressing matters to attend and that's carrying the heavy dish of mac and cheese to the burners to ensure it didn't get cold. Jefferies had taken hold and carried it the rest of the way for her. And in that moment, she was reminded once again of their presence. Her guards weren't team players. They reminded her on the way they weren't there to volunteer; they were there to watch her back so wherever she was assigned then they would be right next to her. She needed her guys back. Tonight she'll be flying back to D.C. and she'll be reunited with Capp at her condo and then her other guys in the morning.

Halsteads' father and Tanya weren't too pleased with the idea of spending their holiday at a soup kitchen, cooking and serving the poor. They had gone home after eating and making a to-go plate. Neither was too keen on doing anything else after their stomachs were filled to the brim. No one was surprised by their refusal to come yet everyone was thankful they didn't. It's just something else to be thankful for this Thanksgiving. Hallie couldn't make it either; she had to report to work for a late shift at the hospital. She'll only be working for a few hours because she'll be flying out with the band for their red-eye flight to Newark.

Carla came to the center of the room and announced, "Can I have everyone's attention?"

Everyone stopped what they were doing. The people in the kitchen came out to hear her better. All activity ceased as everyone waited further instruction. Carla smiled and clasped her hands together, "We'll be opening the doors in a few minutes. I just want to give a rundown of how the morning will go the second those doors open. There will be-"

"Sorry I'm late," a voice interrupted. Each person turned around and if the smile on Erin's face was any measure of excitement, it was pretty obvious just how thrilled she was at Kelly's arrival.

Erin finished pulling the first plastic glove and accidentally dropped the second glove in her haste to get to him. She had sent out the invite to him the night before, but due to work obligations and promises of stopping by his dad's house for the holiday, he didn't know if he would be able to make it. She truly, sincerely missed her friend. It was hard to live so far away from him. Her arms wrapped around his neck while his went around her waist. She felt his lips press against the side of her head as her face nuzzled in the crook of his neck, "I missed you."

He squeezes her even tighter, "I missed you too, Erin. I did everything I could to get here and be a part of this. Thanks for inviting me and sorry I'm late." His opened palm lays flat against her back and he rubs it up and down before taking a step back.

"Let me introduce you first…" Erin starts.

"Oh, no need," Carla interrupts this time, stepping forward with her hand held out, "that's the mayor. I know that smirk anywhere. He's very charming. Hi sir, I'm Carla; I'm in charge at this soup kitchen, it's a great honor to have you here to volunteer. I voted for you." Kelly chuckled.

Since winning the mayoral election, he's found that when meeting new people, they always have to include whether or not they voted for him. He found using it as the closing portion of their sentence to be somewhat entertaining. Despite the fact that he truly didn't need to know if he was who she cast her vote for, he wasn't raised to be rude and he stepped forward with his firm hand held out, "You can call me Kelly. And it's a pleasure to meet you. I know you open up in a few minutes and I don't want to slow things down, so just tell me where you need me."

Their handshake was quick and to the point because as Kelly reminded Carla, they needed to open the doors soon. People were hungry. They waited long enough. As Carla silently ran through the list of roles, Kelly rolled up the sleeves to his button-up shirt, prepping for whatever task will be designated to him. Once his sleeves are rolled up to his forearms, he feels the hand of his best friend intertwine with his, "I should introduce you to everyone," the second he nods, she turns to face everyone in the room, "Guys, this is my best friend, Kelly Severide; Kelly, you've technically met Jay before if you count through Skype," the two men that were near and dear to her had nodded at one another in acknowledgement, "but that's Jay's brother Will, and that's Natalie Manning, Adam Ruzek, Kimberly Burgess, Mouse-"

"Mouse," Kelly repeats; the name obviously catching him off guard.

"It's a long story," the band's bass player replied.

"I hope to hear it one day," Kelly replied, before turning to the other people she had already introduced, "and it's nice to meet you all."

"The pleasure is ours," Kim is over enthused, "I'm a huge fan of Erin and let me just say you and Erin's relationship is friendship goals. I only hope to have a friendship like yours," her hand is extended and the second their palms touch, she begins to bounce in excitement, "and like Carla, I also voted for you and I'll vote for you again in a heartbeat."

And just when Kelly was about to respond, Rixton takes it upon himself to intervene this time and as usual, his comment came across a bit asshole-ish.

"…sooooo, you're the infamous best friend."

"Not today Kenny," Jay retorted, moving forward, "no one's in the mood for your bullshit."

Kelly's infamous leer fell upon his lips as he tucked his hands in his front pockets, "So I'm guessing…you're Kenny Rixton." Erin shot her best friend a look, her eyes pleading with him to tame any urge to protect her and defend her honor. She's known him for years; she knows how he can get when someone disrespects his loved ones.

"…the one and only."

The cocky smirk that graced the face of the keyboard player sparked something within Kelly, something that only comes up when someone's being unnecessarily arrogant and smug, but before Severide could act or speak upon those rising feelings, Carla clears her throat and points towards the watch strapped around her wrist, "Sorry to interrupt but we're opening the doors in less than a minute. Instead of Kimberly serving both the rolls and the cranberry sauce, she'll just be serving the cranberry sauce. Okay sweetie," she looks to Burgess and once the brunette nodded, she turned to Kelly, "I want you on rolls duty. They only get one roll. Now listen here everyone, I have to make this quick. It's going to feel pretty intimidating when those doors open and an influx of people rush in to get in line, but stay cool. Most of them are regulars so they know the rules. Now everyone get in positions, people serving food put on your hairnets and the plastic gloves, man your stations people," she claps her hands before nodding towards one of the staffers to open up the double doors leading into the cafeteria of the church, "Kelly, the box of hairnets is over there," she points towards a table resting the box of materials, "and here are some latex gloves, all food must be handled with them on."

Just as quickly as she gave the rules, the doors opened and people rushed in despite Carla shouting for them to slow down and reminding them that there is enough food for everyone. It was definitely a sight to see. People, desperate for food, grabbed trays and formed some type of line that wasn't even close to being straight. Carla's task was to keep order; she maneuvered through the crowd and structured the line to the best of her ability. It was crooked at the end and at some spaces in the middle but there was only so much perfection that could be reached in such a small space. With smiles plastered on their faces, they diligently served a large portion of each dish while greeting each person that approaches the serving station, "Happy Thanksgiving."

By the time majority of the people were served, their mouths were drying from the constant conversation and the lack of fluid. Each time someone approached, a conversation was sparked by someone serving the food, mostly Kelly.-his charismatic self. It's one thing about Kelly Severide; he knows how to work a crowd and that's pretty obvious with the way the crowd reacted to his kind smile, the light in his eyes and the small dimples in his cheeks. Erin honestly felt he doesn't even try to sway the crowd; it's just a gift. It's one that Jay possesses as well.

It took another half an hour to finish the line and by that point the volunteer servers made their way to the drinks table to help themselves to a cup of ice water. Erin guzzled hers down and went to pour another helping into her cup when Rixton approaches her, "There's no way you're not or you haven't screwed him. It's only a matter of time. I see the way he looks at you."

Rixton is trying to plant a seed. It isn't working.

Back in college, Erin and Kelly have had the talk, the wonder and speculation about how a romantic relationship between the two of them would work. He's her best friend. He's like a brother to her. She's closer to him than she is to majority of her family. He knows things about her; he knows absolutely everything about her. He's been officially friend-zoned and there was no possibility for him to ever come out of it –and the same goes for her. Rixton is trying something; he's reaching, but it wasn't working. She's too confident in her established relationship with Kelly for it to even make her wonder.

"I'm not going to dignify that with an answer."

"Oh come on Erin," he nudged her shoulder playfully and this dynamic felt a bit odd, "you can be honest with me. Trust me. I won't tell." He's trying to get her to self-incriminate herself; it won't work because she's done nothing wrong.

"Nothing has or will ever happen between me and Kelly."

"What's going on over here?" and speaking of the devil and he shall appear; Kelly approached, holding a Styrofoam cup of iced tea, "Is he bothering you, Er?"

"Nothing I can't handle," she shrugged off his concern.

She didn't need Severide fighting her battles. She could handle Rixton; she's been doing it for months. And Kelly knew her enough to not question it; he squeezed her waist before venturing off to the tables filled with families and loners. He wanted to mingle with the people. It's something they always did when volunteering. They spoke to the people to hear about their personal stories and experiences; it was a humbling moment.

"He's pretty protective of you, huh?"

Erin shrugged again, "Eh, I guess you could say that. He's like my brother; it's that sibling kind of protection, you wouldn't understand."

"You'd be surprised. I'm pretty protective of Jay; I consider him a brother; that's a true friendship, one with no sexual backstory, you wouldn't understand."

"Rixton…" Jay's tone was threatening; it was a warning.

"What? You want me to get to know your girl. This is me," he pointed to himself, "getting to know your girl," the smirk on his face was condescending.

"That's not what I meant and you fucking know that," not many people heard Jay's words, just his friends and a few passing people who had come to grab another cup.

"All of those times in the past where you yelled at me because I won't give _her_ ," the pronoun is laced in disdain, "a chance. This is me trying to give her a chance. Make up your mind, Jay!"

Jay was in a good mood. It's a holiday. He woke up in a delightful mood but now Rixton was slowly changing that. His mood shifted. He took deep breaths, he dug his nails into the palms of his hands and he debated on whether he should grab another cup of water in an effort to get back to the mood he was in before Rixton started this mess.

"I want you to be respectful. I want you to get to know her! She's a good person; she's a great lawyer. She's genuinely a selfless, kind and courteous woman and anyone would be blessed to have her in their life, but you don't even want to give her a chance. Give her a chance!"

The smug look remained on his face, "This is me giving her a chance; take it or leave it?"

He grabbed another cup of water and guzzled it down but it didn't work. Jay didn't respond to the choice; instead he ignored it intentionally. The cold liquid of the water was painful on its way down mostly because he accidentally swallowed a piece of ice that was a little too big. He coughed and Kelly –who had at one point made his way back over-, had pat his back. The guy wasn't too bad, at least when he was wearing a shirt around his girlfriend.

"I take it that you're choosing to accept my methods. You want me to like her? This is my way of going about it," Rixton taunted and Erin's eyes immediately met those of her boyfriend; she tolerated a lot with Kenny because of him and she gave him a comforting nod to reassure him that she could handle whatever Rixton attempts to dish out, "I'm doing this because I care about my friend, you understand that don't you, Erin? You would do it for Kelly too, right?" She nods, "So why am I getting such grief for doing what any friend would do?"

"It's the way you're going about it man," it's Kelly that answers.

"Oh, lookie here, the protective bff has to answer because apparently Erin lost her voice."

"Man," Kelly stepped forward and it was both Erin and Jay who pulled him back, "it's the way you're going about it. You don't have to be an asshole to her. Get it through your thick skull, Kenny Rixton," with this Severide takes his pointer finger and presses it against the side of the keyboard player's head, "Back the fuck off. She's done nothing to justify your inferiority complex. She didn't cause it and she's not the answer to fixing it."

"Sev, that's enough," Erin tugged his arm. She eventually managed to pull him away.

"Do you think I'm afraid of you?" Rixton was searching for a fight and with Kelly he truly felt he found one the second the former firefighter yanked his arm from Erin's grasp.

"Kenny…"

Rixton ignored Jay's hostile tone, "You two with your big words and your pockets full of money and your good and self-righteous attitude and reputation," that last comment caused Severide to laugh, but he did not interrupt, -if only Rixton truly knew- Kelly wanted the guy to continue, "I try to bite my tongue. I try to crack jokes in an effort to give her a chance, but she's too much like _her_. She's too much like Heather."

"Kenny!" Jay snapped in an effort to cut him off.

"Is it so wrong of me to want to protect my friend? Is it so wrong of me to want to help him avoid the heartbreak that I suffered? Is it so fucking wrong of me to take what I learned in my past relationships to help him escape the inevitable heartbreak you will eventually bring? It's what all ungrateful, selfish rich girls do!"

"KENNETH!"

For the first time in history, his full government name was shouted, earning looks and raised brows from every single person in the room. Jay couldn't deal with this anymore; he couldn't deal with Kenny Rixton anymore. He just couldn't. He tried –for the sake of the years' worth of friendship, for the sake of the band, for the sake of their fans, for the sake of his love for his friend-, he tried to ignore it, he tried to scold him and move on, but he couldn't anymore. He cut his father off and it seems Rixton was going to be next.

Jay stared at him, and now both of his hands are clenched into fists at his side and his shoulders squared before muttering in a tone that sent chills through her body, "Get. Out."

Rixton chuckled, crossing his arms and leaning against the back wall, "I'm not going anywhere."

"That's where you're mistaken," Jay asserted, voice still holding the same tone as before, "I can't…I can't take this anymore. I can't take _you_ anymore. You need to get your act together; I'm serious, we want no more trouble from you!"

His words left an eerie feeling in the room. Everyone who watches is silent; all of them observing the scene unfolding before them. Rixton is leant against the far wall, arms crossed over his chest, posture portraying a man that is unconcerned with the escalating tension between him and his friend. It took Jay coming to an abrupt stop in front of him, hands shoved into his pants pockets, and face turning red from the arising anger for him to actually stand up straight, for him to gather the gravity of the situation and realize that while they've had many arguments over Erin in the past, this one was different; it was much, much different.

"All of this, because of _her_?" His finger accusatorily pointed a little too close in her direction resulting in a domino effect that led to Jay lunging forward quickly, but Erin was faster.

The second she saw his hand raise into the air slightly, she grabbed him, throwing herself between the two men and pushing both palms against his chest, "No, no, no, no, no," she put all of her weight into the push, "Look at me," his eyes averted from Rixton and down towards her; eyes wide and wild, "Breathe. Alright, just calm down, relax and take a breath. It's okay, Jay."

"No it's not; it's not alright," his retort held the same disdain as all of his previous words did. His eyes were back on Rixton, watching him with an intensity that she's never seen. Most of the time his emotions blew up, she wasn't around. He was protective, actually fiercely protective of her and everyone in the room either knew it or was starting to know it.

In an attempt to calm him, Erin reached one hand up, cupping the side of his face and running her thumb along the stubble of his light beard, "Don't look at him. Look at me."

His shoulders dropped, "Erin…" It was hard for him to be mad at Rixton and look into her eyes at the same time. It was hard for him to shout when her voice was so calm. It was hard for him to focus on any and everything besides her when she's standing right in front of him. If anything, he felt defeated. His shoulders hunched over, the pout to his lips, the lack of shine in his eyes, all because of his friend's unsubstantiated reason to dislike his girlfriend.

"He's about to leave," she glanced over her shoulder, her eyes pleading with Rixton to just walk away, "He's going to leave," she could feel his head against her hand attempt to look back up at him, "No, no, don't look at him, look at me."

What started out as a small, private incident turned into something much bigger, drawing in camera flashes and the attention of the strangers around them. It wasn't just poor people or low income families that were present, there were other volunteers and a few hired photographers too –the church must have hired them for their weekly newsletter. She couldn't afford to care right now. Her attention had been focused on Jay and making sure he didn't do anything he would regret. Erin's hand drifted down his face and only stopped when it reached his hand; she intertwined their fingers together, smiling up at him in an effort to get a matching grin in return, "I love you."

He smiled. He always smiled when she said that.

"I love you too."

Erin glanced over to Nagel, making a request with her gaze that she immediately picked up on. She wanted her to take Rixton away, especially while Jay was distracted. Nagel smiled knowingly, walking towards where Rixton was standing, "I'll walk you out."

"I'm not going anywhere."

Nagel gripped his arm, "That wasn't a suggestion."

"I'm your friend, Jay. I'm just trying to protect you. She's going to leave you one day," Rixton said as Nagel started pushing him in the direction of the exit, "The second she meets someone better, smarter, richer and more famous, she's going to leave you."

"That's not going to happen; you see, Rixton, she's not Heather."

"You fucking bastard," Rixton said through gritted teeth, "She's not perfect! She'll eventually screw you over! It's what they all do."

"I want you out of here!" Jay shouted, pointing towards the exit, "Get out! And don't come back until you get your act together. It's either you change or you're out of the band!"

"Are you serious right now?"

Jay immediately started moving towards him again, but Erin was once again much faster, rushing to stand in front of him and pressing the palms of both of her hands against his chest. That made him stop. Her touch always had a way of calming him down. And in that moment, Nagel and Upton escorted Rixton out the exit and towards a taxi someone had called for him. He was slightly intoxicated from the beer he drank a few hours ago and no one wanted to risk letting a tipsy and angry Rixton on the road. The second the door is closed behind him, Erin is tugging Jay away from the growing crowd.

"I swear I'll fire him," he threatened, struggling and failing to tame his anger.

"You're not going to fire him."

"Erin, I'm starting to consider it," he wants to pace around but she's holding firmly onto the side of his shirt, yanking him towards her, pulling them chest to chest, "punching him in the face isn't doing it for me anymore. He won't stop."

"I've kind of gotten immune to it."

"You shouldn't have to get used to that though."

"Babe," she whispered, tilting her head up slightly to press her lips against his, "he's not the first and he won't be the last. You've known him longer. He's one of your good friends."

"…but I love you," his fingers tighten their hold around her thin waist.

Jay's had it. He's had enough. Something has to change and it's either going to be his keyboard player or Rixton's attitude. Kenny is his childhood friend, someone he's been close to for longer than he can remember. For all intents and purposes, Rixton was one of his best friends, but as a best friend, you should want your friend to be happy. Erin makes Jay happy.

Erin didn't want to come between them. She didn't want Jay to resent her for hurting his band and destroying a friendship that was built long before he met her. Erin released the fabric of his shirt and stepped back, "You know I love you too and because of that I'm going to tell you not to fire Rixton. You would grow to resent me. You would eventually start to blame me for it."

"…no, I wouldn't."

"Jay," she gently gripped his chin and turned his head to face and focus on her, "you can't stop people, specifically people you know from disrespecting me."

He argued, "Besides Rixton, I've managed to stop everyone that I know who speaks badly of you! I've even went on social media and-"

"Violet thinks I'm a spoiled brat and that everything I worked hard to do was done out of selfishness or was done to win my father the election. I'm a fake wannabe to her. I have never-"

"I'll fire her," Jay cuts her off firmly –and desperately.

Erin shakes her head, "Wait. What? That's not why I told you that."

"I'll fire Violet," he repeats; his gaze is fixed on hers.

"Of course you will," she doesn't sound convinced, but she continues to talk anyway, "and don't get me started on Devon, your event coordinator, I don't think there is anything I could do that will change the way he sees me. I'm a slut to him. I'm sleeping with you to get something in return. He actually said that-"

"He's fired too," Jay cuts her off once again.

"Jay…"

"Anyone who has ever spoken ill of you and to you, they're fired."

"You're missing my point. I can't ask you to do that. That wouldn't be fair."

"I don't care! I don't care!"

"And what will the press think, your fans, and your other staff members?"

"They'll think that they shouldn't fuck around with my girlfriend," he pulls her –albeit a little roughly- back into his protective arms, "you're off limits."

"Jay…"

"I just want to protect you," his hand caresses the side of her face, "I just want to defend my girlfriend. Why is that so bad?"

"It's not…" she sighs.

"…then let me do this."

To further prove his point, he withdraws his cell phone from his pocket and in the group chat that was created by his brother he sent out a message firing both Violet and Devon. The chat held every member of the band and every person that worked for them. It was a public firing; one that Will didn't approve of, but was sent out and done anyone. He glanced around the room to see his remaining bandmates pulling out their cell phones, along with Kim, Will and Natalie. By the looks on their faces, they've all received and read the text. An unprofessional text it may have been –who fires someone through instant messaging. Jay knows it could have been done in a better way, but he was feeling a little petty; they disrespected his girlfriend and he's disrespecting them. No regrets. No regards. And no responses back.

Before tucking his phone back into his pocket, he adds one final message to the group, _And if there are any other members of my staff that even tries to disrespect my girlfriend, don't bother showing up to work, -JH_

He knew both Violet and Devon would be texting back at any moment. It was the holiday; it was pretty harsh of him to fire them both not only through text but on a recognized federal holiday. And once again, he didn't care. He's done caring for people who don't care about him, his happiness and the people that bring him it. If he had to choose between Erin and anyone else, then Erin will always win.

In a few hours they would have to separate –only for a few days- for him to fly out to Newark and for her to fly back to D.C. They're spending Christmas together on her territory and she mentioned on the ride over that everyone was interested in meeting her parents –he didn't know why- and because of their interest, she sent her mother a text message requesting an invite to pass along to them for Christmas dinner. He only hoped Camille approved; he hadn't faced her parents in a long time and the last time he saw her mother it was under unpleasant conditions so he preferred to see them again while surrounded and supported by his loved ones.

Once Jay pockets his phone, he takes a glance around to see everyone watching and silently eating their food. The mood had shifted and he needed to get it back. So without further ado, a genuine smile appeared on his face, he reached for a new pair of gloves and tossed the box over to Kelly, "Alright people, it's Thanksgiving! Who's ready for seconds and who's ready to share what they're thankful for?" And as quick as the mood had shifted prior, it came back. Children were laughing, the elderly shared tales of simpler times and the adults took advantage of the offer for seconds being served at the food station. It was the season of thankfulness and considering how far he's come and what he's had to do to get there, he found himself feeling humble –an emotion he rarely feels- and he found himself being extra thankful for his career, his income, his family, his friends and most importantly, his girlfriend.

 **A/N:**

I usually don't write many author's notes, but I've been getting reviews and private messages asking me about the dress I had in mind for Erin in the last chapter. If you're still interested in what it looks like, I posted a picture of it on my tumblr account, -sincerelytiffanyff


	38. Tis the Season

He's fast asleep, his head lies upon her chest, his steady, drained breaths puffing upon the skin just above her breasts. He will have to wake up soon; she knows his band will be over for an early afternoon brunch and the last thing they need is for someone else to walk in on them naked. She still hadn't been face to face with her mother since the incident –any conversation between them occurred via text message. Eventually, Erin will have to face her –Jay too. They're supposed to celebrate Christmas with her family this year. Her boyfriend needed to wake up soon. His friends will be at the door within the hour according to the time lighting up on her digital clock and the fact that Burgess sent her a text informing her that they just left the hotel.

He just looks so adorable when he's sleeping. His chest is rising and falling with every breath and the way his body is curled, molded and cuddled against hers has her reclosing her eyes in an effort to freeze this moment. Erin couldn't find it in herself to wake him, not when she can trail her fingers gently up and down his arm uninterrupted. Her fingernails start at his shoulder and scratch along down to his forearm draped over her bare waist, the tips of her fingers faltering softly over his skin, over the hairs along his flesh, before retracing her unclear finger path back up to his shoulder and back down again. It's soothing for the both of them.

Erin repeats the motion, each trail she leaves behind imprints itself into her head –remembering this moment, this casual, quiet moment for as long as possible. She definitely won't wake him when it's time. She'll let him wake naturally. And if his friends get here before he wakes up, she'll be glad to distract them and buy him time to get ready.

At some point, she'll have to get out of the bed. Today, her day consisted of decorating her house for the holidays and doing some work. Taking off from work for weeks only meant that she'll have to play a serious game of catch-up. Between her office and her bedroom, her world has slowly become an endless day of work, work and more work. A few nights ago, Jay had returned from his charity concert and found her sitting on the floor in her living room, working. Her fingers continued the caressing motion along his arm. She knows he's actually awake when he starts to rub his unshaven face against her chest. It's another few minutes before he shows more signs of life, more signs of awareness and consciousness, taking deep breaths, curling his toes, stretching his legs, but when he lifts his head from its comfortable place on her chest, she knows he has no intention of going back to sleep.

He turns to kiss the skin between her breasts, "Good morning."

"It's not morning," she turns her head to read the time off her phone screen. "Well, technically it is, but it's eleven in the morning. It's almost noon."

That's when he realizes the sun was shining bright in her bedroom; it was at its highest peak. It was truly time to get up even though he wouldn't have minded a day of isolation, a day away from his friends –no offense to any of them. Jay sat up and stretched his arms above his head, "I really wish you'd invited them over later in the week."

"I'm working from home today but I can't guarantee that I will later on in the week."

Jay glared at her, "No work."

"That's easy for you to say. Your concerts, interviews, meet and greets, and performances are over for right now. You create your own schedule. I still have to work." She makes a move to get out of bed but he pulls her back.

"No you don't…"

"Jay," her voice holds warning.

"Erin," he mimics the way in which she said his name, "You don't _have_ to work. You make plenty of money from volunteering, attending events and guest speaking."

She shimmies out of his hold and steps out of bed, "First of all," she grabs a hair tie to pull back her medium-length hair, "I don't get paid to volunteer. That kind of defeats the purpose in the term volunteer. Secondly, I don't get paid to attend events; I'm famous but not _that_ famous and third, I can't support myself on guest speaking alone."

With her being out of bed, that kind of pushed him to follow. It was no point in hanging back if she wasn't going to continue cuddling with him. He had no reason whatsoever to stay lying beneath the warm blankets and on the fluffy pillows. Instead, he followed her into the bathroom; they both subconsciously stopped in front of their unassigned 'his and her' sinks, "I make plenty of money," he reaches for his toothbrush.

She cuts him off, "That's definitely _not_ an option." She reaches for hers, "I refuse to be a kept woman or a woman who depends on a man to support her."

"That's not what I was getting at, babe."

For a moment the only sound that was heard was the water running and the sounds of their toothbrushes scrubbing across their teeth. He met her eyes in the mirror –both continuing the motions of brushing their teeth. This conversation was far from over. In her mind, she was done, her point was made and the case was settled. In his mind, it was only starting. He spit out the remaining bits of toothpaste before rinsing out his mouth, "I'm not insinuating you're going to be a kept woman but maybe cut back your hours and work half-time or maybe you can work for the band, you know? With as much trouble as we get in, we can use a lawyer."

"Mason is your entertainment lawyer."

"He can be replaced," he shrugged off as if he held no loyalty. Mason has worked for the band since they started making money. He used a nearby towel to dry his mouth.

She rinsed her mouth out before grabbing the hand towel from him and wiping her mouth, "Um, copyrights, contracts, distribution deals, appearance and location releases, and whatever else the job entails doesn't excite me." She walks out of the bathroom and he follows.

"…but that does," he nods towards her briefcase. He's being sarcastic.

"It does actually," she quipped, "and this is the end of this particular conversation. I'm not leaving my job so let's drop it. I would never ask you to leave yours and I would appreciate you doing the same, got it _babe_?" The look on her face means one thing –you better agree.

The next hour is spent showering, getting dressed and straightening up a condo that for some reason had gotten a bit disheveled since she arrived back from Chicago. It was more so Jay cleaning up than her –for two primary reasons, he's working off irritation that arose from realizing he'll have to see Rixton again and he's somewhat of a neat-freak. As he cleaned, Erin made one of her favorite beverages –hot chocolate. She was grabbing a bag of marshmallows from the pantry when she heard the front door open and the loud arrival from the band.

With each person that entered her condo, they all held a range of two to four bags of food and alcohol. Jay sighed; he knew they weren't planning to leave any time soon. He met Burgess and Natalie and took a hold of their combined six bags before carrying them the rest of the way.

"Did you guys buy the store?" Erin joked.

"Actually Kim was tempted to purchase the produce, dairy and vegetable aisles," Ruzek replied in all seriousness, "because one time Jay mentioned his concern for your eating habits" at that Erin smacked her boyfriend's chest with the back of her hand, "and then that one time we spent the night here, we got beers out the fridge and she noticed and hadn't forgotten the lack of food, specifically the lack of nutritional options."

"I don't have the time to cook," she took the brown paper bag from Jay.

He sat the rest on the counters, "You would if you took a step back from practicing law."

And at that, she walked out of the kitchen to greet the rest of his band. Burgess and Natalie remained in the kitchen. She led them into her kitchen and cleared off some counter space for them to sit down the grocery bags. Erin spotted Rixton hovering near the kitchen island; he looked like a puzzle-piece that was struggling to figure out where he fit in. For the first time since she's met him, he was quiet and somewhat unnerved. Something was going on, and it wasn't just this falling out between him and Jay. Rixton and Erin weren't close at all so she would leave it to his family and friends to figure out how he is and what's going on.

"Help yourselves to some hot chocolate. I'll get the marshmallows out of the pantry," she intentionally bumped her shoulder against her boyfriend's when she moved past him.

Each person grabbed a mug of hot chocolate after marshmallows and whipped cream was applied. She grabs one cup and instead of taking a sip of the warm beverage, she carries it over to Kenny and extends it, "Here you go. It's my signature recipe."

"It's from a hot chocolate packet."

She rolled her eyes and ignored Will's remark –and he even takes it a bit farther by holding up the empty box, "Anyway, just give it a shot. It'll warm you up."

"That's alright, Erin, no thanks."

"Are you sure? You're shivering," she nods towards his shaking shoulders and his quivering jaw, "and besides, hot chocolate has a way of not only physically warming us up but warming up our spirits as well and it is the holiday season and-"

"I said that's alright, Erin, I don't want any hot chocolate," he retorted and before he could go find something to do, he feels a calloused hand wrap around his wrist. Rixton looks up to meet the eyes of Jay, "Yeah?"

He releases his wrist, "Never mind, you're not even worth it."

Erin didn't even notice the silence that surrounded everyone. For a room to be filled with so many people, the silence was deafening. She would rather go back to verbal sparring with Rixton than deal with them not talking and watching the effects it had on the band. She watched the few seconds of eye contact shared between them before Jay walked into the kitchen and Rixton grabbed the mug of hot chocolate out of her hands and walked over to her bare Christmas tree –they were here for breakfast and to assist in decorating her home. She couldn't even focus on that. Instead, she started walking towards her boyfriend only to be intercepted by Natalie, "This isn't their first blow up. Just give them time."

Erin knew this wasn't their first blow up, "I know that, but this is their first one over a girl."

That made it all different. Erin wasn't going anywhere. Rixton has to come to terms with that before Jay even thinks about dropping his threat that he's not above kicking the keyboard player out of the band. He was getting closer and closer to making that decision; if Rixton got in trouble or brings in some type of bad press, Jay was going to use it to finally kick his former best friend out of the band for good. Erin couldn't let that happen.

Just as she starts to approach her boyfriend, he turns around. The look on his face is tense. He was pissed and frown lines were starting to seep into his forehead. He was still handsome though. There's something about how he looks, both hands holding two mugs of hot chocolate, rolled-up sleeves and a dark wool sweater that has her momentarily forgetting why she was approaching him in the first place, "Thank you."

He leaned forward and kissed her forehead, "You're welcome." The kiss appeared to be robotized like there was no emotion involved. She knew he was distracted with Rixton's presence, but she could only hope that it didn't last for the entire day.

She takes a small sip of her hot chocolate, "Are you going to be okay?" Whip cream stains her upper lip and he wipes it off with the tip of his thumb.

"I'll be fine," he blinks out of whatever reverie he was lost in, "it's just…I hardly recognize the guy anymore, especially since Thanksgiving. I mean he's always been rude, but never the way he was at the soup kitchen. That I can't just forgive and forget."

Jay was more important than the mug of hot chocolate in her hands so she chose to set it down on the counter in favor of tugging on his wool sweater. He sat his cup down and obliged, moving in closer and locking his lips onto hers before she had a chance to give him one of those pep talks that only Erin Voight can give. His arms circled her hips and despite being in front of his friends, he didn't slow down, he only kissed her harder, more passionately and more intense. Rixton was watching. He knew and it only pushed him to continue kissing her, even when she couldn't breathe anymore. The envious eyes of Rixton were fuel for him.

"Guys, we came here to eat and decorate, not to watch you two rip each other's faces off," it's Will that cracks the joke and to everyone's relief, Erin turns her head away, but Jay kept kissing her, trailing his lips and peppering kisses wherever his lips lands.

"I'd never thought I'd ever say this to you in my life but stop kissing me," she chuckled and he obliged, "your friends are right. We'll save that for later," her eyes communicated the promise in her words, "for right now it's time to cook and decorate." And following that statement the group of friends divided and conquered the tasks of breakfast and decorating.

Burgess started the holiday-themed music. She swayed her hips to the beat as Erin dragged a large container full of Christmas decorations down the hall. Jay met her halfway, using those muscles he spent years working to perfect to lift the crate up and carry it the rest of the way, dropping it at the base of the tree. The tree stands firm, near her large floor to ceiling windows, waiting patiently to be splashed with lights and ornaments.

Natalie carries a tray of mimosas over and sets them down carefully on the coffee table. She takes hers and waves for everyone to follow. Erin starts by grabbing a framed ornament, one she created in kindergarten that has a picture of her and her family inside. It's been on her Christmas tree since she was five years old. It always goes up first –its tradition. The second she reaches for the next ornament –it didn't matter which one her fingers landed on- her friends all joined in, even Rixton, albeit he was a bit hesitant and cautious and had chosen to decorate an area where no one was standing. He's noticeably quiet. Erin reached for the last mimosa –the one made for Rixton- and walked over to the side of the tree he was standing by, "Here you go."

"Oh," he's caught off guard and he notices Jay watching him to ensure he didn't try to disrespect his girlfriend, "Thank you, Erin and I'm sorry about earlier. I wasn't in that great of a mood, my bad," Jay rolled his eyes; he perceived it all as an act.

"You're welcome," she grinned.

"Come on Er, we have a few more ornaments to hang up."

Erin nodded to indicate that she heard her boyfriend's words. She felt bad, even though everyone has told her that the falling out between the two wasn't her fault, she truly felt that it was, it honestly was her fault. She was the reason. She was the person in the middle. Rixton lost his friend and so did Jay and it was because of her. Erin backed away from the tree to take a large gulp of her mimosa while observing the progress made around her home. Kim was decorating the fireplace using garland, ribbons, decorative and holiday themed candles and hanging stockings –one for her and one for Jay. Mouse disappeared momentarily to hang up a Christmas reef outside her front door. Natalie, Ruzek and Will were on food preparation duty; what was on the menu, no one knew, but Erin opened her kitchen up to them the second they walked in carrying bags of groceries. Whatever it is they're whipping up smells divine.

With the music flowing in the background, Erin, Jay and Rixton continue hanging the Christmas ornaments up, spacing them out to ensure no one spot is overcrowded or flooded with color, lights and ornaments. By the time the last ornament is settled on a branch, most of the house is decorated, most of brunch is complete and absolutely everyone was hungry and exhausted.

"Mouse, wait," Erin called out when she heard him reenter her home, "did Atwater ever get the ladder from the janitorial closet?" She didn't have one; they had to borrow it from the janitor's closet which was located all the way in the downstairs lobby.

"Yeah, it's out here, do you want it now?"

She nodded, "Yes please, all I have left to add is the star."

He momentarily disappeared to grab it.

Today was already going by so fast. It was Saturday and brunch was starting to turn into a late lunch. With this day flying by, it only set the mood for the rest of the week. December always had a way of going by so fast since it was filled with so much activity. This was one of her favorite times of the year, one of her favorite months and she wished she had some type of way of slowing it down to preserve and cherish every moment of it.

Mouse carried the ladder inside and carefully opened it up to the left of the tree.

"This ladder isn't too sturdy so please be careful." he cautioned.

Erin heeded the request, being careful not to fall as she climbed to the top. She wasn't too worried, with Jay perched just behind her, one hand on the ladder and the other on her lower back, she was pretty confident that she wouldn't take a tumble. For the finishing touch, she reached up and sat the star carefully on the tip of the tree. She straightened it to ensure it was upright. And once she was satisfied, she came down from the ladder.

The ladder was closed and carried out of the condo by Atwater. She brushed her hands against her pants leg before lifting the empty crate that once held Christmas decorations. For a moment, Erin disappeared, walking down the hall that each guest room was located to put the container out of sight –at the bottom of the linen closet. Jay watched her disappear before turning towards the lighted tree. It appeared professionally decorated. The green Christmas tree, decorated with white lights and red, gold and silver ornaments hung from each branch. It put him in the holiday spirit. He took a step closer and reached his hand out to trace an ornament that was in the shape of a snowman. A genuine smile stretched across his face, one that everyone noticed.

"If you smile any harder your face is either going to get stuck like that or break," his brother joked and Jay didn't respond. Instead he continued to stare into the sparkle of each light.

Erin reappeared in the living room. Her bare feet is hitting lightly against the floor. She's such a great host. She ventures into the kitchen and grabs and carefully carries enough bottles of beer for each of them. Jay is the last one she hands one to because his had a requirement. She eagerly tapped her lips and he happily obliged, leaning in to provide her with a peck on the lips that guaranteed him the beer in her hand. Once he's in custody of it, she walks away, venturing into her bedroom. He's looking at the direction in which she disappeared. There's a far off look in his eyes and no one knew what he was thinking.

It's December. It's hard to believe they've been dating for a little over eight months. The status and the progress of their relationship have surpassed predictions by the media, bets by the fans and the guesses of paparazzi. They've expressed their love for each other months ago. They've exchanged keys and practically invited each other to move in a month ago. What the following months will bring, Erin didn't know, but Jay had a semblance of an idea.

"I'm going to marry that girl one day."

Everyone is stunned to silence at his honest and genuine confession.

-x-

For a long second, she thought her alarm was going off. She thought it was morning already even though it felt like her head had _just_ touched the pillow. It was still pitch black in her bedroom and for a moment she questioned whether or not she actually opened her eyes because she was met with darkness, no sunlight in sight. She blinked. She rubbed her eyes –they were definitely open. What she thought was her alarm was still going off, getting louder the longer she took to turn it off. Her eyes scanned the digital clock; it's a little after two in the morning. She was too tired to think about why her alarm was going off at this time of night. She didn't even understand why her alarm was going off in the first place –it was Sunday. She didn't work Sundays.

Erin removed the weight –that is Jay's arm- from around her waist and reached to grab her phone. She had forgotten to put it on the charger –like always. She really needed to get into the habit of doing that every night. Erin brought the phone up close to her face and the brightness on her cell phone blinded her for a few seconds. She had to blink through the spots. And when her vision cleared, she saw that her alarm wasn't going off.

She had a phone call.

Her phone was ringing.

She brings the phone forward and squints to read the name flashing across the screen, "Rixton," she sighed in her best effort to not wake Jay up, "What? Why are you calling me at," she looked back over at her digital clock, "2:46 in the morning."

"Erin."

She wasn't in the mood, "Uh, just go back to sleep."

"Erin."

"Can this wait until a more decent hour?"

"Erin…" he repeated and this time the cloudiness in her vision and in her hearing disappeared and she was able to pick up on his tone. He sounds nervous and desperate and panicked.

She immediately sat up; suddenly forgetting her boyfriend was lying next to her. She looked over at him and sighed when she saw he was still asleep, "What happened?"

"I need your help."

It was straight to the point. He said a lot of nothing right now. She had too many follow-up questions but she knew over-the-phone wasn't the way to get answers. Erin threw the covers off her legs, "Okay, fine, let me just wake Jay up."

"No," his words were clipped and sudden and it causes her hand to hover above her boyfriend's shoulder, "No, no, no Erin. He's already pissed at me. Can we just leave him out of this? _Please_." Yeah, he's desperate. And now she's concerned.

"Who else have you called?"

"Just you," he answers and she can hear him pacing in the background, "I uh…I'll text you my address. I just need your help with something."

Without hesitating, she balances her phone between her ear and her shoulder as she pulls a pair of sweatpants out of her bottom dresser drawer, "Are you in trouble, Kenny?"

"It depends on your definition of trouble."

She slides a pair of mismatched socks onto her feet, "Legal trouble?"

"…possibly."

The phone almost falls but she catches it, "Are you in jail?"

"No," he answers quickly, just as she steps into a pair of snow boots, "I just need your help with something. I'll tell you more about it once you get here."

"Kenny…" she honestly didn't feel like leaving her place at such a late hour.

"Jay says you're a good lawyer," he replied. And she knows that Jay had also said to her that it's hard for her to say no. Reluctantly, she nods even though she knew Rixton couldn't see her.

Erin grabbed a post-it and a pen, "Fine…" She scribbled down a string of somewhat legible words and stuck it to the top of her alarm clock. It simply stated that she stepped out to lend her services to a friend –the word friend in this context is used lightly.

"It won't take more than an hour," Rixton promised, "and you can help yourself to anything in the mini fridge." And she was definitely planning to take him up on that offer.

Once her phone pings, Rixton hangs up without a word. She sees his address and she puts it into her phone. He's staying in a hotel just outside the city. It's half an hour away. She throws her hair up into a messy ponytail and looks at herself in the mirror. She didn't care that her black bra can be seen through the white tank top she's wearing; she wasn't out to impress anyone and as soon as she can, she's getting back so she can go back to sleep and enjoy her day off. For the sake of her status and reputation, she grabs a sweatshirt with her alma mater written across the front and pulls it over her head and slides her arms through the sleeve.

As quietly as possible, Erin stepped out of the bedroom and tiptoed down the hallway. She knows Capp is gone and her guards aren't supposed to be in until seven in the morning. She grabbed her phone and her coat off the rack before stepping out of her condo. It was some type of irony in the situation. She's a grown woman and she's sneaking out of her condo to help a guy who couldn't honestly care less than two shits about her. As she stepped into the elevator, she booked an Uber, which she was fortunate to get at such a late hour. By the time she was in the lobby, the car had arrived and was parked in front of her condo. It's nearly three in the morning and she was taking a large step towards a civil friendship with the most hostile and disrespectful member of the band.

And a little over half an hour later, she was standing on the other side of his room, knocking softly on the door –trying to be mindful of the other hotel guests.

"Alright," Erin said the second the door flew open, "I'm here. What's going on?"

Rixton shuffles her into the room, poking his head into the hallway afterwards to ensure no one noticed the first daughter entering his room at 3:36 in the morning. The coast was clear. He shuts the door softly, and double-bolts the lock to ensure they were not interrupted. Seconds afterwards, he resumes a pace that she was pretty sure he was doing even before he called to wake her up. Patiently, she waited. And she waited as he searched through his messy hotel room.

Erin is hesitant to approach and before she can speak, he hands her a stapled stack of papers. He resumes his pacing but this time the speed is much faster. His hand is pressed against his forehead and his breaths are erratic. Erin didn't sign up for this when she answered that call.

He momentarily stops, "I need you to look at that." She nods and looks down at the paper. He resumes pacing. She skims the first page.

Kenny Rixton is being sued by his ex-fiancée. She reads the statement. He's embarrassed to admit it verbally, but he doesn't mind if she reads the details on paper. Heather, his ex-fiancée is suing claiming emotional distress after a three week affair between the two of them. He's the defendant and Heather's husband is the plaintiff. Nowadays you can pretty much sue for any and everything. This woman, this Heather, was his weakness. She was a variable that led into the Kenny Rixton that she met months ago, the bad boy, the bachelor, the guy who refused to give her the benefit of the doubt because she reminded him too much of his ex. Heather was his weakness. Just the mentioning of her had him distressed, just the thought of her sent him into a frenzy. Heather had broken his heart and left him for someone else and the second she opened her arms, he came running back regardless of the way she's treated him in the past and the fact that she's still married. Rixton is a hurt man. And as the saying goes hurt people, hurt people.

Erin flips to the second page.

"I want to hire you," she stops reading the second his voice fills the room; "…as my lawyer," he clarifies, "I…I'll pay you whatever you need."

Her eyes resume reading, "Save your money."

"I know we have our history, but you're the only lawyer that I trust and I really-"

"An alienation of affection suit…" she interrupts him as she continues to read, "This wouldn't work. I'm pretty positive that you can only use this suit in six states and Illinois isn't one of them. This is not how a lawsuit looks; this wasn't officially filed yet."

"Her husband threatened to file it and maybe he files it through one of the six states that actually recognizes alienation of whatever that fucking document says…" He appears defeated. He flops down on the edge of his bed, hands shoved in his pockets and his head hung low.

Erin didn't even bother reading the rest of the pages. She's read enough. And she tossed the document onto the arm chair before taking a seat beside him, "I can see you're freaking out over this, Kenny, but-"

"You're damn right I'm freaking out. I had one more chance to stay in the band and I screwed up. I wanted this to stay quiet and now it's blowing out of proportion especially if he goes to another state that accepts that type of lawsuit."

"Rixton, that's not how filing a lawsuit works. You can't just go to any state and file one, there has to be some type of personal jurisdiction there meaning either the plaintiff –which would be him- or defendant –in this case, you- resides in the state or the incident –or reason they're suing- occurred in the state. Last time I checked you live in Illinois. Where did the affair happen?"

"A town outside of Chicago…"

"…but it was still in Illinois?" And when he nodded, she smiled, "See, nothing to worry about with the alienation of affection. And besides even if they could sue you for that, it'll be hard to prove. He'll have to prove that he and his wife were in a happy marriage with genuine love, he was damaged in some way whether physically, financially or emotionally, their love was ruined because of the third party –you- and that the affair was the direct cause of the alienation, and all of that would have had to be proven by Heather's husband and his lawyer."

Rixton seemed to relax a little. His hands were no longer in his pockets and his shoulders appeared to be less tense. She smiled. She had everything to do with that.

"What about the emotional distress? The negligence?"

She remembered briefly reading about the emotional distress being a result of negligence on his part, but she failed to connect the dots, "Negligence as in reference to what?"

"We had sex without a condom. She…she thought she was pregnant but it was a false alarm. She's suing me for millions. Apparently, her husband is filing for bankruptcy."

Erin dryly chuckled –it lacked pure humor, "I don't know if they hired a lawyer or not, but their alienation of affection suit was stronger than this one and we threw that argument out in the first ten minutes since I read about it. Sex without a condom? Really. That's the best they got?"

"Does that mean you'll take my case?"

"No," she shakes her head and watches the smile on his face fall, "because there's no case to take. It's obvious they haven't hired a lawyer yet and when they do their lawyer will tell them exactly what I'm telling you –there's no case and if they file the negligence one it'll either get thrown out or they'll lose the second the judge hears the details of the case."

"You sound pretty confident."

"Your confidence in music is my confidence in law."

All the tension left his shoulders. There was a true, genuine smile slowly stretching across his lips and for the first time since ever it was directed at her.

"So what's our next step?"

"First, a few clarification questions before I make contact to basically inform them of their lack of a case," she started and he nodded to indicate that he understands, "do you know when her husband filed for bankruptcy? Meaning, do you know if it was before or after the affair?"

"He filed before the affair."

"And the sex… was it consensual?"

"Yes, yes, always yes," he emphasizes.

"Okay, I want you to send me Heather's number. I'll make contact and go over every detail of the document her husband sent and you want to know what the icing on the cake will be," he eagerly nods at her words, "the fact they didn't file right away, instead, they typed up that," she points to the document, "and sent it to you and it could be misconceived as blackmail since they're expecting monetary gain from all of this."

He comes to a sudden realization, "You are amazing." His eyes flutter in astonishment.

"I'm not that amazing," she humbly shrugs it off, "I'm just trying to help a friend in need. I got into my profession because I hate to see people being taken advantage of and money or no money, anyone can be exploited."

"And you're helping me even after the way I've treated you."

"Yeah, well there's already so much heartache, pain and distress in life without us adding to it through our own stubbornness. Holding grudges is too much of a burden to bear." All those times when Jay would tell her that she had a way with words and Rixton would overhear those moments started to flash through his mind. Maybe she did? Maybe she was just as genuinely great as everyone thought?

"How do you let go of the grudges? How do you not blame the people who have hurt you?" He's speaking metaphorically because he doesn't know about her past, he doesn't know about Charlie or Nadia or the drugs and alcohol or Annie or anything. He's speaking because he knows she's human and everyone has suffered some type of hurt by the hands of others.

"Holding a grudge doesn't make us strong, Kenny," she sets her hand on his shoulder, "to be honest, holding a grudge just makes us bitter. My mother used to always tell me this and I'm going to pass along the wisdom of Camille Voight, but to be honest, she probably got it from some self-help book, but I digress, anyway, my mother has always told me that some people come into our lives as blessings and some come as lessons and it's up to us to determine between the two. If you don't mind me being frank, Heather came into your life as a lesson and considering the affair and this supposed lawsuit in the making, you haven't learned it yet."

There was a long pause. She held her breath for the duration of it. Considering that her relationship with Rixton was already rocky and unsure, it wouldn't take much to break the olive branch that is becoming of their 'friendship.' She dropped her hand from his shoulder sensing a change in mood. She was prepared to get up and leave or be forcibly kicked out but surprisingly Rixton's words halted her, "I can see why Jay loves you so much."

And those words right there surprisingly meant everything to her especially coming from him. Maybe, just maybe, this could be the start of a civil relationship, one where Jay doesn't have to feel like he has to choose between his best friend and his girlfriend.

"That means a lot coming from you."

His hand pats her leg, "And I know I don't deserve anymore favors, but do you think this can stay between us? I mean…I know you don't want to keep secrets from Jay and you can tell him but can you not tell Will, or Natalie because she'll just tell him?"

She nods, "You have my word."

"And try to convince your boyfriend not to kick my ass?"

"I'll see what I can do," she smirks.

And for the first time in history, Rixton hugs her. It could be out of some sense of immediate relief; the weight of the world wasn't on his shoulders and he no longer had to wonder about his future in the band all because of her. Maybe she wasn't as bad as he once thought? Maybe he never gave her a chance? Maybe the state of their relationship was all because of him?

The awkward hug comes to an end the second Erin starts to yawn. Time seemed to have flown on by since her arrival. It was ten minutes past four in the morning. She rose to her feet and collected the stapled documents, "Are you going to be able to get any sleep tonight?"

"I doubt it," he shrugs it off as if it was no big deal. He opens up the mini fridge and grabs two beers, tossing her one over his shoulder. Fortunately, she caught it.

"You should try to at least get a few hours."

"Nah, I'll pass, I'm too wired up."

Tucking the documents under her arm, holding her unopened bottle of beer and using her free hand to open up her Uber app, she took a seat in the stiff and firm arm chair that she's convinced is more for decoration than for actual comfort. She couldn't wait to call for an Uber, get home, get back into her pajamas, crawl back into bed and cuddle up to her warm boyfriend. However, it seemed just like the phone call she received from Rixton, waking her up and convincing her to come over wasn't luck neither was the Uber screen on her phone.

"There are no Ubers available." She sounds defeated.

"…not one?"

"None at all," she whispered, setting her dying phone down. She had a little over thirty percent battery power left. Her phone would not make it through the rest of the night.

"I'm sorry Erin."

She swallowed, "No, I'm getting home. There's always another option."

Silently they think to themselves before a metaphorical light bulb goes off in his head and he races over to the hotel phone hooked up beside his king-sized bed. She waits. She finishes off her beer by the time he's off the phone and standing in front of her, "The hotel is unable to get a taxi; it's closed until six am," Rixton muttered and all the guilt he felt before seemed to hit him at full force the second they both realized she wouldn't be going home tonight, "I called the front desk three times. I even offered to pay extra. They reached out to multiple taxi companies and no one answered. There's nothing they can do for the next two hours."

It was quiet enough in his room to hear a pin drop on the carpet. She's stranded half an hour -driving distance- away from her condo. It's too late for her to walk home. Erin released a watery laugh, head sagging forward in defeat, "This is just my luck."

"You can stay here."

"What time does the metro close?"

"Midnight," he answers as if she should already know considering she's a resident in the DC metropolitan area, "and besides, you're not taking it or walking alone."

Erin grumbled, "I was hoping to get back before anyone knew I was missing."

"Text your guards and tell them where you are and to pick you up in the morning on their way to your place," he directs, stooping low in front of her seated position, "the last thing I need is for them to realize you're missing, put out a search on you and then raid into my hotel room with their guns drawn, shooting me first and asking questions later."

Erin laughed, the sound absolutely taking her by surprise, "That's not how it works, you know?"

While stooped low in front of her, he shifts positions, choosing instead to sit on his bended knees in order to be more at eye-level with her. She has her face buried in her hands; she's tired and sad and just absolutely defeated. She caught up on sleep when she was in Chicago and now that she's back home, back to reality, back to working and volunteering and everything her official and unofficial jobs entail, she's losing it all over again. Rixton gently pulls her hand away from her face –he's been such a gentleman since she arrived, since she helped him, since he saw a side of her that wasn't privy to all. When she raises her free hand to take the place of the hand that once covered her face, he uses his opposite hand to pull it away, "You can take the bed. I'll take the floor. It's the least I can do after getting you into my mess."

"It's freezing in your room," she says, shivering slightly, "and I can't rob you of your bed," she glances over his shoulder to look at it, "it's pretty huge. We can share."

"Nah, Jay'll kill me."

"No, he won't."

"I have the tendency to drift towards the body lying in bed with me."

She didn't argue with that point. Instead, she rose to her feet and kicked off her boots. Rixton held her cell, typing out a message to her guards since she forgot to do it. Afterwards, he handed it to her before going to the bed to grab a pillow. He tossed it to the floor. He went to the closet and grabbed a spare blanket before throwing it on top of his pillow. He saw her shiver again.

"I'll turn off the air conditioner."

"Thanks," she whispered and she appeared to be hesitant to crawl in, "Hey," he looks over his shoulder at her, "I don't mind taking the floor." And he seems to have read her mind and found the reasoning for her sudden change in decision.

"I haven't brought any women back here," he reassures, devilishly smirking at the thought, "and besides, the cleaning staff changes the sheets and everything every day."

Erin took his word for it and climbed into the bed. Tightly in her right hand, she's gripping her cell phone. She left a note for Jay but she wanted to call him too –she wanted to reassure him and she silently hoped, prayed and crossed her fingers that he would answer and maybe find a way to pick her up. While this was a new start for Erin and Kenny, she didn't feel comfortable enough spending the night in the room of an established playboy especially considering she's dating his best friend. She hoped the media doesn't find out about this –or her parents, or the paparazzi or their fans. Matter of fact, if she could get out of this situation with only Jay, Rixton and her guards in the know then she would deem that a success.

"I'm going to take a quick shower. I feel like I smell like alcohol."

He did, but Erin wasn't going to tell him. She simply nodded and buried her head under the covers. The only light provided to her beneath the blanket came from her cell phone. She speed dialed her boyfriend's number and unsurprisingly, he didn't answer. She left a voicemail.

"Hey babe," Erin said, struggling to keep her voice steady and calm; she didn't want to be here, "um, it's Erin, but I guess you already know that considering modern technology grants us the ability to save contacts into our phone. Okay, I'm rambling. I uh…I don't want you to panic when you realize that I'm not there. I'm uh, I'm at the same hotel as your band and I'm staying the night in Rixton's room –it's a pretty long story and-" the voicemail beeped signaling she ran out of time and it was sent. She was forced to call back and just as before, he didn't answer and she resumed from where her last voicemail left off, "Um, what was I saying, oh yeah, don't freak out, I'm safe at Rixton's and he's being a perfect gentleman if you can believe that and I text my guards so when they wake up and see my message, they'll pick me up. I'll see you in the morning. I love you. So much. More than…more than everything." She hung up the phone.

It's like her phone waited. And maybe she did have some luck because it died right after she ended the voicemail. After pulling her head from beneath the covers and tugging the blanket over her shoulders, she fell asleep, her body and mind too tired and exhausted to keep her up with a stream of racing thoughts, worries, what-if scenarios, plans for what she needed to do in the next week and other forms of stress.

-x-

Jay woke up with no hair in his face, no body pressed against his and no leg wrapped around him.

There was no one next to him. He opened his eyes. There was no one in the room with him.

Suddenly, he sat up and glanced around the room. He felt her side of the bed. _Cold_. There wasn't even an imprinted dent in the bed from where she had supposedly slept. He threw the covers off his legs, "Erin…" His voice was calm. He figured she was somewhere in the condo.

He was met with silence. No one answered. He heard no movement.

Jay pushed himself up from the bed and walked around her bedroom in search of something –what it was, he didn't know and he wouldn't know until he found it. He poked his head into the master bathroom, "Erin." She wasn't in there. She wouldn't just leave. His eyes fell to the digital clock and he saw it was a little after seven in the morning. His stomach dropped. He raced to her bedroom door and pulled it open, "ERIN!"

She wasn't here. He went to the front door, prepared to alert her guards, only to find no one standing outside. Maybe she left with them? He somewhat calmed down. If her guys were with her, it would make him feel better. He scratched his bare chest as his feet padded against the floor on his way back to the bedroom. He needed his phone. Maybe she called him? Or text him? Or something because she knows he's going to worry…he always worries about her.

Jay glances back at the clock to stare at the time as if the force of his glare would make time rewind to the moment she woke up and left his side. He was worried. Even if she was with her guards, she didn't work on Sundays so that meant something was important or urgent enough that she left his side in the middle of the night –without even waking him up- to tend to it. He spots a small post-it note; it's adhesively stuck to the top of the clock. How he missed it before he didn't know. He swipes it up without a second thought and reads it.

 _Had to step out to help a friend xoxo_

That worry he felt was suddenly replaced with anger. It provided no real information. He didn't know where she was or why she was there. He tosses the covers off the bed and he eventually finds his phone in the mess that is the state of her sheets. She was supposed to be here. He's supposed to be waking up to his girlfriend every morning now that the tour is over and writing the new album is mostly completed, just a few last minute adjustments and changes to lines or words. He sees two voicemails from her. Jay listened to them both, his hand anxiously running through his hair as alarm bells went off in his head. Occasionally, he did find himself smiling during some parts of the message. He gripped his hair a little too tightly and he winced. He didn't understand. Why was she at Rixton's hotel room? Why did she have to stay the night?

Once the last voicemail ended, he immediately called her back. It went straight to voicemail.

"God fucking dammit!" He shouted, tossing his phone across the room. At this moment, he didn't care if his screen broke or if his phone was no longer usable, it had one purpose right now and it was fucking useless. He was going to fucking punch Rixton in the face. That's the least his friend deserves for waking his girlfriend up in the middle of the night and somehow convincing her to go there _alone in the middle of the fucking night_ for whatever reason he selfishly deemed important. He didn't have a car. Her phone must have died since it went straight to voicemail. He had no way of contacting her, but the one semblance of peace he got was from knowing her guards are probably with her.

In an effort to de-stress, he took a fifteen minute shower. And by the time he was out, with a towel wrapped around his waist, she was back. He heard the front door open and close. She was trying to be quiet, probably expecting him to still be asleep. It was now a little before eight in the morning. He went over to the dresser and opened one of the drawers she cleaned out for him when he heard the bedroom door open; he heard her inhale a short breath the moment she saw him, his back remained to her as he searched through the drawer, "Jay," she whispered softly.

She couldn't see his face but he was glaring, "Why didn't you wake me up?"

"I don't know what happened," he dropped his towel and stepped into a pair of boxers, "but if you had to leave out at whatever the time Rixton's dumbass woke you up at, you should have shaken me awake. Even if you didn't and you went, the second you realized you couldn't come back, Rixton should have kept calling me even after your phone died. He should have called and called until I answered or he could have walked the distance here to get me, to break down your door and physically wake me up."

Erin blinked once at that, "I didn't wake you because I didn't think I would be gone that long and I called you twice. And it's a 30 minute drive so I can't imagine how long the walk is."

"I don't care. I would have walked to the fucking hotel!"

"I'm sorry," her apology was genuine. She couldn't be mad at him. He was scared. His anger was just masking his fear.

"I'm not mad at you," he grabs a pair of jeans and steps into them, "I'm mad at Rixton, not you, I was just caught off guard when I woke up and you weren't there and your side of the bed was cold. I'm not used to that."

Jay buckled his jeans just as Erin deemed him to be calm enough to approach. She was about to open her mouth, to respond and to reassure, but his hand pressed against the back of her head and he brought her forward to kiss him. He kissed her with every emotion that went through him from the moment he woke up to find her gone. He still didn't have a shirt on and she took advantage of that by resting the palm of her hands against his sculptured chest. And unfortunately, the two of them ran out of oxygen before they were ready to and as a result they reluctantly pulled apart.

"I'm sorry I scared you. It won't happen again."

His hand intertwined in the back of her head, gripping the tangles that were a result of her messy bun, "I know and I'm not mad at you."

"You shouldn't be mad at Rixton either."

This surprises him, "You, of all people, defending Kenny Rixton."

"He's just misunderstood, hurting and grasping at straws," she whispers and her arms come up to wrap around his bare waist, "Just cut him a little slack."

"What happened? What did he need you for?"

"You can't tell your brother or Natalie," the look in her eyes lets him know she isn't joking around, that's a term and a condition for her to release the contents of her late night meeting with Rixton, "or anyone for that matter. It stays between us."

Once he nods, she spends the next hour filling him in on the details of her night; from the moment Rixton called her to the second she had to sneak out the parking garage of the hotel to ensure no one saw her and speculated that it was all due to a walk of shame. She's careful about some details, especially the moments where she provided both heartfelt and legal advice towards his situation. He was vulnerable in this moment. And if there's anything that Erin learned about prominent bad boys feeling helpless and vulnerable, it's that it's a sensitive moment that's typically masked and covered up by the secondary emotion, anger.

"You shouldn't have answered his call," he muttered, snapping his jaw after each word, "He got himself into that mess, you should have left him to get his self out of it." Erin took a step back.

"He's your friend."

"He _was_ my friend," he corrected.

"I get it," she asserted, reaching out to grab his forearms, "you're upset with him and you have every right to be but its December, it's the season of giving! Tis the season and all of that, you know? Just cut your friend some slack, he apologized and I accepted it and you should too. Grudges are too heavy to carry around with us and you can't throw away the years of friendship that you two have built. He knows where you stand. He knows where _we_ stand with each other and if he can't respect that then that's his prerogative. Becoming pissed every time his name is mentioned gives him power over you. Forgive him, not for him but for you, Jay." She leaned up to kiss his chin, lingering her lips against the dimple piercing through it.

Tis the season indeed it appears. He wasn't going to make any promises when it came to Rixton and forgiveness, but for her and in the name of the holiday season, he was at least willing to try.


	39. Naughty or Nice

Erin quivered as she stood outside in the cold, arms wrapped around her waist to combat the sudden shiver that spiked through her body as she stands in her heels and dress. She looked up at the tall office building, "Are you ready for this?" Jay took a hold of her hand as he followed her gaze; she was staring at her work building situated in the heart of downtown D.C.

"I should be asking you that," she chuckled, pulling her gaze off the building and onto him, she squeezed his hand before sighing, "…maybe we can stay for an hour or two and then leave."

"Are you not in the partying mood?"

She noted the lightness in his voice, the relaxation in his features; he was enjoying this.

"You've never met my boss, you've never met my co-workers and must I remind you that you already met Landon." Those were her parting words before she released his hand and led the two of them inside. Her guards trailed the caboose; they always knew they didn't need to hover as much when she's at work, more so because the office was equipped with security.

Jay had forgotten about his girlfriend's acquaintance –for lack of a better word. He honestly didn't know what to call him. Jay found himself distracted but he'd still managed to find enough concentration to follow her into the building and into the elevator. He's only been here once; it was on the day of Nadia's birthday earlier in the year. Since then, he hasn't been back; there's been no reason for him to come back. Jay watched Erin press the elevator close button and for the first time in history, he started to feel claustrophobic. Her guards were huge; they were muscular, bulky, tall and pretty intimidating and the elevator forced them all to be in close proximity. It was a tight space and he almost –emphasis on almost- decided to just wait for the next elevator to come because the anxiety that this ride up caused wasn't worth it.

He started to loosen up his tie until Erin swatted his hand away.

"Don't mess with that," she turned in the already tight space to readjust his tie. His fingers restlessly tapped against her waist as he impatiently watched the numbers on the elevator light up every time they reached another floor. He would have preferred taking the stairs.

"You're starting to sweat," she points out the perspiration on his forehead, "What's wrong?"

He shrugs, "I think it's the elevator ride."

Most elevators are never this small. And surprisingly, for an office building this big, the elevator was a small fraction, or entity of it. It could barely fit six petite people inside, let alone five large guys and one small woman. Maybe because there are no mirrors or windows? Those typically make a room –or in this case an elevator- feel larger than the actual size.

"Since when were you afraid of elevator rides?"

He laughed at that insinuation, "Since never, I'm not afraid. I'm just a bit cramped and hot. We're basically rubbing elbows. I don't think an elevator this small was built to fit all of us."

"The maximum weight says 2250 pounds, just relax," she replied, turning to face forward the second the doors opened and each person in the elevator was greeted with holiday decorations, cheer, music, tuxedos and ball gowns.

Jay was the first one out of the elevator, immediately followed by Erin and her guards who found the entire situation to be amusing. He wasn't afraid of elevator rides. But, to be honest, Erin suspected that the elevator ride was a cover-up; his anxiety came from being immersed in her society. For the next couple of days, he'll be in her world –a work holiday party and Christmas dinner with her family in the White House. Every little thing was setting him on edge because in the upcoming days, he'll be face to face with her parents again.

"Erin," she heard the voice of her boss call out to her, "glad you could make it," he excused himself through the hounds of staff and their significant others, "I was beginning to think you were going to be a no show like last year."

"I came last year," she defended.

"…you showed your face for like five minutes," he amended his earlier statement.

"Yeah, well, I think I'll show my face for like an hour this year."

Peter's head fell back as he emitted a loud laugh, "Progress; that's all I ask of my employees."

Peter Mills, her boss; he's firm yet understanding, he's harsh yet empathetic and most of all he's a nice guy who got into this field after his mother's diner was being extorted by some of the neighborhood thugs on his block. Her business lost so much money that she almost had to close it down but fortunately a family friend referred her to a friend of theirs and that just so happened to be a civil attorney and he teamed up with the state prosecutor to convict the people responsible and the funds that were seized were given to his mother. It all worked out in the end. He never forgot that. And to this day he never regretted his decision to stop being a firefighter, enroll in law school and become a civil rights attorney to help people like his mother.

"Are you going to introduce me to the man of the hour?"

Jay's cheeks tinted red, "I'm Jay Halstead," he extends his hand, "Erin's boyfriend."

"Peter Mills," he responds, shaking his hand in return, "Erin's boss."

"I was surprised to see that Erin included a plus one when rsvping, but I don't mind sharing the spotlight. Enjoy the festivities you two. If you need me, I'll be over on the dance floor."

And just like that, her boss was off, grooving to the beat of the Christmas music leaving the couple watching with wide eyes.

"Your boss is pretty cool."

Erin nods her head, smirk lying casually across her face, "Yeah, but he's just extra cool today because he's tipsy."

Erin and Jay ventured further into the party scene; she occasionally introduced her boyfriend to her co-workers, and more specifically her interns who all happened to declare themselves as Jay's Halstead's biggest fans. The day before –when they found out that Jay was accompanying his girlfriend to the party- they all put in last minute RSVPs and then begged Erin for an introduction. She kept her word. And therefore she became the best supervisor and boss of all time –according to them.

"I'll tell you all a prospective release date for my next album if you guys can guarantee me that you won't let my lady here work herself into an early grave." The moment he threw his arm around her shoulder, her interns turned into middle school girls as they batted their eyes and hung onto his every word. To be completely honest, none of them probably comprehended the words he said, all they saw was him talking to them. Each of them eagerly nodded their heads, agreeing. And he carries through on his end of the deal by whispering a release date.

Almost immediately the cell phones are pulled out and the interns take it to social media.

"Please don't tell me Will is going to be pissed that you did that."

He shrugs, "Don't know; don't care."

Erin rolled her eyes and took his hand, leading him along to introduce him to a few associates of the firm and her secretary who was an old lady with such a young soul. Jay enjoyed her; she kind of reminded him of his own mother. He unofficially met her once before but it was a quick greeting and neither of them were introduced to each other.

"Ms. Voight, you have to try these," she practically grabs the platter of appetizers from one of the hired waiters walking around the room; she extends the tray towards Erin, nodding for her to try some of the fancy quiche the law office splurged on, "it's pretty good and you know how picky I am when it comes to food."

"Yes I do," Erin helped herself to two, "we're the complete opposites when it comes to food."

Jay and her secretary watched her as if she were a food critic taste testing something they've stayed up late to perfect. Jay was a visual eater; he couldn't eat anything if it didn't appeal to his sight and the quiche absolutely did not look visually pleasing. He passed. That was until his girlfriend's secretary practically grabbed a napkin off the platter, picked two up and then handed them over to him without a second thought. He wasn't going to argue with her. He kept his mouth shut and graciously accepted the offering.

"Is it good?" Jay asked, watching Erin start to eat the second one she picked up. He didn't want to try until he got the thumbs up from her.

"No, it's nasty," she sarcastically replied, finishing off the last bite, "I always eat stuff I hate."

"Don't be a smartass," her secretary scolded and Erin nodded immediately, mumbling a yes ma'am as if this woman had some type of authority over her.

It was about respect.

The second Erin had gotten a promotion and Peter recommended that she hired a secretary to help her out; it only took one interview to know that she found the perfect lady. This woman was a nurse in the military before she retired after 30 years. She could bark orders. She could make even the biggest and toughest man squirm. She was the perfect person for the position and to this day, two years later, she's never regretted it, especially when interns, paralegals, other attorneys and even clients who have not scheduled meetings attempt to drop by, ask a question, discuss a case, go over a legal brief or something that could have been done via email, her secretary was always there to send them away. Some even tried to sneak past her desk but she catches them every time. Erin's pretty sure there's a bet going around that her secretary either has cameras stationed around her work desk or she has eyes in the back of her head.

"Erin!" A familiar voice exclaims, halting the conversation between her, Jay and her secretary.

"Want me to get rid of him?" her secretary offered. A hint of no nonsense is in her voice.

Oh how Erin loves her, but even if the suggestion was given, she didn't accept it.

"You're not on the clock. You came to enjoy the party; I got this."

The secretary squeezed Erin's elbow with her feeble fingers before leading her husband on over to help themselves to the open bar. As Landon grew near, Jay wrapped his arm around his girl's waist, more so out of moral support for her frustration rather than out of some male pride. He knew Erin was with him. He knew if she ever left him for someone else, it wouldn't be Landon. He knew for a fact that Landon wasn't a threat and therefore he felt no risk to his relationship by the way the guy is striding towards them, glass of dark liquor in hand.

"Erin you look beautiful as always."

"Thank you Landon," she accepted his compliment before turning in her boyfriend's arms, "Want to grab a drink before the interns find out it's an open bar?" Jay chuckled before agreeing with a silent nod of the head.

"Wait, Erin, I was hoping to talk to you," he reached forward to grab her wrist and Erin immediately reacted, pulling her arm out of his hold, "Sorry," he quickly apologized.

Her arms crossed over her chest, "Can you get me a drink, Jay? You know what I like."

And for a split second, he looked between the two of them. His brow raised high, "You sure?"

"Yeah," she unravels her arms, and pats his chest, "Thanks babe."

If she says she's sure, then she's sure. He shrugged his shoulders and left it at that; he didn't question her further. Once he departed towards the bar, her attention averted towards Landon.

"I was wondering when you came in tomorrow if you could stop by my office. There's a case that was brought to my attention and it's going to be a challenge but I thought if both of us put our heads together, we could do it. We could do anything," he shoved his hands into his front pockets and rocked on his feet, forwards and backwards.

"I won't be in tomorrow."

"Why not?"

"…we're off because of the party tonight," she retorted in a tone that suggests he should have already known this, "it's an open bar. When Peter planned this shindig he was pretty sure that everyone was going to be too wasted to get out of bed let alone work by sunrise."

"Oh…"

He was stuck.

She waited. Until he was unstuck, "…then maybe I can come over or you can come over or we can just be ahead of the rest of these guys and show up to look over the case."

"Since you've been here you haven't tried a case by yourself," she was beginning to grow suspicious, "what's the deal? You always try to barge into my office with whatever case Peter tossed on your desk and you request my services. Is this what you did at your last job?" His silence was an answer and that's why she's now nodding, "…maybe that's why you were fired."

"I didn't get fired," he immediately jumped in to correct and the look on her face has him amending his last statement, "Okay, it was a _mutual_ decision on both sides that I should leave."

"You're a lawyer, Landon," she pats his shoulder, smiling with a sort of sympathy she reserves for people who don't deserve it, "don't let that law school education go to waste."

Erin turned to walk away, only stopping when he shouts out her name. She doesn't turn back though. She stands motionless, waiting to see what he has to say.

"…employment discrimination based on gender," he shouts in an effort to draw her in.

And even when she answers, she doesn't turn around to face him, "I didn't come here to talk work and law. I came here to have a good time. Please, just let me have my good time."

"Alright Erin," Landon nodded; stepping away the second he sees her boyfriend leave the bar and start to walk over, "if you change your mind I'll be over there helping myself to the shrimp cocktail. And uh, you do look beautiful tonight."

"The compliments won't change my mind." This makes her turn around to face him.

"I didn't say that to change your mind. It's the truth. You look beautiful tonight."

That left her standing in the middle of the floor alone until Jay approaches her seconds later. He hands her a glass and she doesn't even question the contents as she guzzles majority of it down.

"Don't tell me you're stressed," he chuckled.

"I'm always stressed after talking to Landon." She sets her empty glass down on the tray a waiter was holding as he walked by, "He's always so full of shit."

"You know the guy better than me, but I will say, he was right about one thing."

"And what's that?" She turned to face him, slipping his glass out of his hand to take a sip.

"You do look absolutely beautiful tonight."

"You heard that?"

"It wasn't hard to miss. The Christmas music is playing pretty low and Landon's voice is always playing pretty loud."

Now that, that made her head fall backwards as she laughed.

The night moved along in full swing. Erin surprised herself; she became some sort of a social butterfly, moving around the room to share conversation with different people, most of them are employees she doesn't even talk to on a daily basis. She rarely ventures outside of her office when she's at work; the only times she leaves out is for lunch, the bathroom or to leave for the day. She needed to have lunch in the lounge. She needed to participate in water cooler gossip.

As Erin was the social butterfly of the night, her guards were posted both far enough away to give her privacy but close enough to watch and intervene if one of the intoxicated guests got handsy or aggressive. It was a pretty dull night but her guards still needed to stay on guard. And Jay posted up with them –not really. He was enjoying their company. Besides Erin, they were the only ones in the room that he knew, so the second he was done being introduced by Erin, he ventured over to Atwater and Roman and leaned against the wall they were standing near.

"Erin has a really good relationship with you guys," he sparked the conversation after helping himself to a refill since Erin finished his last.

"It hasn't always been like that," Roman laughed; the shades covering his eyes block the humor within his orbs. He's flashing back to when he was first assigned to her –so, so long ago.

"What do you mean?" Jay pushed off the wall to walk closer, "Do tell."

"You basically already know," Atwater answered, readjusting the shades covering his own eyes, "our girl there was a rebel in her younger years. Rebellion doesn't really mesh well when you have bodyguards assigned to follow you everywhere."

Jay watched the immense joy on her face. She was in her element and he remembered wanting her and actually suggesting to her that she leave her job, but if these people, this place and this work that they're celebrating brings that smile onto her face, then he saw her point, he saw the reason why she didn't complain about her lack of self-care. To her, it was the price to pay for doing such a selfless job. He loved her. And if he did decide to take the plunge, to jump the broom and ask her to marry him then he knew for the first time in his life when it came to relationships, he wouldn't regret this one.

"She's amazing," he found himself whispering.

The sensitive ears of Atwater and Roman –the ears that were trained to detect, had picked up on his words and both of them smiled.

"She is amazing," Roman agreed.

"And we want her to stay like that," Atwater added and for the first time in the night and probably in his career, he pulled his eyes away from Erin while she stood in a public space, "if you break her heart…" his threat doesn't even need to be finished because Jay's already nodding along, practically agreeing.

"If I break her heart then I'll deserve whatever it is you have planned for me."

A satisfied smile graces Atwater's face as he focuses back on Phoenix, checking in every 30 minutes with Dawson and Sorensen who were positioned on the other side of the room to let them know that everything remained clear on their side.

The night continues to move along and a few minutes after his conversation with Atwater and Roman, Erin had come over, grabbed his tie and dragged him onto a nonexistent dance floor. Everyone seemed to just dance wherever they got the groove to dance. Jay doesn't think Peter has stopped dancing since their arrival. She threw her arms around his neck and swayed to the beat of Jingle Bell Rock. They were a bit off beat but by the smile on her face and the joy in her eyes he couldn't find it in himself to care. Who cares about a beat when you're having fun? When you're living your best life? When you're with the love of your life?

"I probably look a mess right now," she giggled in his embrace.

"Nah," he shrugged off her self-critique, "you look beautiful. I thought we already established that." His hands settled on her hips and he fell in line with _her_ beat –not the music's beat.

Seconds turned to minutes and Jingle Bell Rock transitioned into Santa Baby and they maintained the same beat –only this time their sways actually kind of meshed well with the new song. She leaned forward in his arms and kissed his chin.

"Are you having fun?"

"Surprisingly, I am," she giggled again, hand sliding down the fabric of his tie, "I kept thinking something was going to go wrong tonight. This night is pretty perfect."

"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself."

She stops dancing and he follows her lead. The two stood unmoving, still in each other's embrace in the middle of the floor.

"You know I've been nice all night," she started and he had absolutely no idea where she was going with this. He hung on each word she spoke afterwards, "I think it's time for us to get a little naughty."

Almost as if there was something in the air destined to ruin their perfect night, his phone rings and Will's name is lighting up across the screen. Will had strict instructions to only call if it's an emergency. That's why Erin couldn't find it in her to get upset when Jay swiped across the screen to answer, "Hello."

She couldn't hear Will's words, but she heard his bolstering voice talking fast. Jay could barely fit a word in, but when he managed to respond, she realized that it wasn't an emergency. Apparently his band's album release date is trending and Will is not too happy about it. Neither is Natalie, but the other band members do not really care nor Rixton hasn't weighed in on it. He's still not on the best terms with him.

"Can we talk about this later? I was in the middle of something."

His brother must have disagreed because she could hear him still going off about how upset he is that Jay decided to do this without consulting with him first. Erin was going to let him have his conversation even though she knew he regrets answering the phone.

She stepped forward and her lips graced another kiss upon his chin, "When you're done with your phone call, meet me upstairs," she slurred; her words and the heat of her breath hinting towards the estimated amount of alcohol she consumed over the night, "in my office," she leaned in to whisper against his ear, "and I'm going to need this," she tugs upon his tie and just as fast as she tied it around his neck when they were getting ready, she untied it.

With the tie dangling in her hand, she proceeds to walk away, adding an extra sway to her hips because she knows he's watching. She knows his eyes are following every movement of hers at least until she steps onto the elevator and the doors close behind her.

-x-

Erin guzzles down a cold water bottle from the mini fridge in the lounge to battle the few remnants of tipsiness before continuing through the empty floor that her office was located on. It was dark, pitch black and it would have scared her if not for the moon and the street lamps outside casting an ethereal glow inside of the room. Erin sets her clutch down onto her secretary's desk as she walks past it. And once she approached her office door, she found herself feeling around the glass in search of the knob. There was light but it wasn't much.

The second she stepped into the room and closed the door behind her, she purposely kept on the heels that were aching her feet and swayed on over to her desk. She sat partially along the edge of it before tying the tie around her eyes, cutting off all ability to see even though with the darkness in the room she couldn't see much anyway. Now all that was left to do was wait.

And she waited, and waited, for what felt like hours later, before there was a knock at the door and seconds later it finally opened and she heard –more like felt- a presence approach her. The carpet in her office silenced the sound of his shoes.

"I was beginning to think you forgot about me," she pushed herself fully onto the desk. She pictures the look on her boyfriend's face as he moves closer and closer and she starts to regret using his tie as a blindfold when his hand found its way onto her thigh, "I've been waiting for you," she could hear his breath get caught in his throat, "We'll have to hurry before anyone realizes that we're missing from the party." The people she worries will notice and come searching for her are her guards. Her boss may notice and send her a text but he should be busy enough with socializing that he wouldn't have the time to seek her out.

Erin feels his body in front of her and without much control, her legs open, her dress stretches and rises up to bunch at her upper thighs as he stands between her legs. His fingers skim along the flesh of her thigh, against every blemish and stretchmark that the darkness masquerades. And with a little rush in his movements, he starts to push her dress up until it bunches up around her waist; stripping her of her clothing wasn't going fast enough for him so he reached around to grip the zipper just as she reaches for the buckle of his slacks.

His lips latch on to her neck and sloppy kisses are applied to the crevice of her neckline. The moan that escapes her mouth encourages him. His adrenaline is pumping. He grips her hips a little too tightly and yanks her forward –she gasps. He smirks. She makes quick work of his belt and when his pants fell to the ground, she reaches for his neck to bring him in for a kiss, only for the side of her arm to brush against some type of fabric –not a shirt, not a suit jacket, but a tie.

A shocked gasp escapes her mouth and the second she pulls back, sliding herself further away, she reaches for the blindfold around her eyes and yanks with more strength than necessary. It was still dark in the room, but based on the silhouette of the man in front of her she immediately recognized him and when the light in her office is suddenly turned on, her speculation was proven to be correct. Landon stood in front of her, face red from embarrassment at being caught with his pants down. Erin was in shock; that much was obvious by the frozen expression on her face and the fact that she has yet to pull her dress back down. Her head was over her shoulder, her gaze directed at Jay and the look on his face was intense enough to break her out of whatever shocked and frozen state her body was in.

"I've about had it with you," the pitch of his voice reached a volume unfamiliar to her ears; he slammed the door behind him and it shook on its hinges, "Face it, Erin is with me. _Me_!" As long as Jay didn't look him in the eye, he would be able to keep his composure. He put his face in his hands and through his hair, "You just can't get it through your thick skull. She wants nothing and I mean absolutely nothing to do with you. When are you going to realize that?"

Erin suddenly hopped off her desk and scrambled to pull down the tightly-fitted dress; she stumbled towards him and out of instinct, he reached out to balance her. He'll always balance her even when he's upset, even when he's fuming, and even when he's seeing red. No one uttered a word in the room and while Landon was terrified by the expression on his face, Erin's face read one of tranquility. There were no words to be said. Nothing came to mind that could adequately explain what had transpired. She wrapped her hands around his upper arms and switched positions with him, circling them around so he's standing with his back to Landon. It was easier to talk him down, to explain and keep him cool if he weren't staring into the eyes of the man who was caressing her thigh, dropping his pants and hitching her dress up moments ago.

"Look man," Landon spoke up and continued talking despite Erin raising her hand to silence him, "it's a misunderstanding. I…I thought she wanted it," she glares over Jay's shoulder at him; she didn't want that, "I thought she wanted a quick rendezvous before-"

And no further words were spoken at the time because all of a sudden Jay turned around and punched him in the face. His fist connected with his nose hard enough to elicit a crunch. It had to have broken. Landon fell to the ground and his hands immediately flew to his nose, a look of shock and rage appearing on his face as blood started to seep through the creases between his fingers, "You hit me!"

"Yeah, well you were trying to take advantage of my girlfriend," Jay retorted, shaking his hand in an effort to shake the pain out of it, "It only seems fair."

Landon's hand dropped from his bloody nose and on the silent count of three, he jumped to his feet, charged towards Jay and tackled him to the ground. Immediately the two men were rolling around, wrestling, hitting one another and doing everything in their effort to hurt the other. Jay had the upper hand even though Landon had managed to get a few hits in and when she realized that neither of them had any intention of ceasing the fight, she intervened. By gripping her boyfriend by the tip of the ear as if he were an insubordinate child, she pulled him towards her.

"You both are idiots!" Her voice managed to reach an octave that someone with a raspy voice typically didn't reach. She releases his ear, "You can't just punch and fight people when you feel like it! You're an adult, Jay! Both of you," she glances over her shoulder at Landon deep breathing and clenching his nose while lying on the floor, "this…this isn't the way adults handle things! We use our words! Our WORDS!"

"Well then," Landon says through gritted teeth as he sits up, "I'll use my words to say your boyfriend is an unworthy bitch. You deserve better." She closed her eyes and sighed. Her shoulders slumped forward in absolute defeat and hopelessness.

Jay stepped in his direction only for Erin to pull him back, "Get up!" He starts pacing to work off some of the residual anger and tension in the room, "Please, I want you to get up right now. I'm begging you to do it so I can knock your ass back off your feet." He shouted as he paced back and forth, circling Landon like he was his prey.

"Landon, can you please leave?"

Even while holding his nose, he managed to stand up, "I'm not leaving you with him. For all I know he'll turn into one of those jealous boyfriends and kill you."

"Really," the word is uttered by both of them in unison.

She shoots a warning look to her boyfriend before continuing, "The only person you need to be worried about him killing is you. I can handle myself. Go fix your nose."

"I think it's broken," he muttered, pulling his hand away briefly to show her the damage.

"…then go to the hospital. There are no doctors here."

"It's a room full of lawyers though," he muttered, moving his hand back to his nose in an effort to stop and prevent more blood loss, "This isn't over Jay. I swear it's not."

"Landon," she pointed towards her office door, "I swear…get the fuck out of my office. NOW!"

He listened after that. She wasn't in the mood. Between the slight buzz from the alcohol, the fact that she almost crossed a line with a man she wasn't dating and the fight that broke out between her coworker and her boyfriend, her night was already on the wild side. The adrenaline was still pumping through her bloodstream and she felt the urge to either slap or kiss her boyfriend. She couldn't figure out which one to do exactly so she chose both. The second after her hand flew across his face, she leaned in to press her lips against his. She didn't like him physically fighting, especially over her, but she also knew he was extremely protective of the people he cared about, especially her, always her and she couldn't fault him for that. But, he shouldn't have hit Landon.

"You shouldn't have done that," she whispered, lifting her hand to caress the darkening bruise on his cheek, "You're an adult, Jay. You _can't_ keep fighting and hitting people. You have to stop doing that no matter what someone says or does to me."

"I'm always going to defend you. That's never going to stop."

"And I'm not telling you to stop defending me, I'm just saying that there are other ways you can defend someone. Do it with your words. People are literally paid to defend clients with their words. You have to try other tactics because this," she grabs his hand and holds his bruising knuckles up to his face, "this isn't cutting it. This is ridiculous and it can't happen anymore."

"Well that can't happen anymore."

"I can guarantee that. Can you guarantee mine?"

"Erin," he sighs in an effort to avoid answering her question, "how did that even happen? I'm not blaming you, but you have to understand why I could think…" his voice drags off.

"I know it's going to sound dumb and you might not believe me, but I thought it was you."

He chuckled; it wasn't a real laugh, it was dark and humorless, "Babe, it was dark in here but it wasn't that dark. We don't lie to each other; let's not start now."

"I'm not lying," she asserted and she brought her hand up to caress another bruise that's starting to show along his jawline, "I used your tie," she nods towards his neck even though he's no longer wearing it, "I used it to blindfold myself. I was waiting for you to finish your phone call. I heard him come in and just assumed it was you. I should have checked first or waited for him to say something or…I don't know," she shrugged.

His good hand runs through her hair, "Hey," it settles at the back of her head, "I'm not mad at you. I'm mad at Landon, not you. You pushed him away the second you knew it wasn't me."

"Yeah, I did," she whispered.

"How'd you know it wasn't me?"

Her eyes fell towards the tie resting on the floor, "I was about to pull him in for a kiss when his tie brushed against my arm. At the time I didn't know it was him, but I knew it wasn't you since your tie was tied around my eyes at the moment."

"It seems my tie saved the day."

She smiles, "Yeah, it seems it did," her head is hung low; she absolutely feels horrible about the entire situation, "Jay, I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault. It was a stupid, stupid, stupid mistake."

"Yeah, but it doesn't make the sight of it any better. If the situation was reversed, I would be feeling a plethora of emotions. And I know you're not upset with me about what happened, but I still feel like I owe you an apology. So, with that said, I'm sorry and I need you to accept it not argue that it doesn't need to be said."

"Apology accepted."

Erin used the height advantage her high heels provided to brush her lips across his in a gentle and chaste kiss that captured how horrible she truly feels about the situation. But, Jay isn't dwelling on it –at least not anymore. Now that Landon was out of the room, now that Landon was hit a few times and now that Landon didn't see much of her anyway considering it was dark in the room and her dress was still on, he couldn't find it in himself to remain upset. For a brief second he pulled away to look into her eyes, "Did he kiss you?"

"…he kissed my neck," she felt even guiltier admitting that.

"What about your lips?" She doesn't give a verbal answer. She eagerly shakes her head to admit that his mouth never landed on hers. If it did, she would have known it wasn't Jay. He's a man of many talents and kissing is definitely one of them. She would have known if he had kissed her.

Taking advantage of the moment shared, he bent his knees and picked her up as she instinctively jumped into him, her short and smooth legs wrapping around his waist. When he lifts her, it's with ease; his hands hold underneath her thighs to ensure she wouldn't fall. With one arm, he carried her further into her office, kicking his tie out of the way, as he walked them across the room to the desk, carefully lowering them so he was hovering above her. His biceps are bulging through his suit jacket, "I don't want to talk anymore."

His fingers slid along her jaw and angled her head up, his gaze meeting hers, "No words, Erin, unless you want me to stop," his lips press forcefully against hers and she whines loudly at the impact of it. She didn't argue. She didn't complain. She wanted this. She needed this. She had to get the thought of Landon touching and kissing her out of her head. She pulled him close and whispered out a demand, "Don't be gentle."

Jay growled and silently vowed to himself that those would be the only lucid words she'd get out in the next hour. He made quick work of his pants as she hitched her dress up.

"No more words, Erin," he whispered, hovering, his thick length pressed against her thigh

His earlier vow proved to be an immediate success when he took her hard and fast, driving them both out of their mind at the friction. Her heart pounds rapidly in her chest as he pushes forward slightly, pulling his head back to look her in the eyes, to observe, to watch her as he take her all in, in every sense of the word. This angle wasn't comfortable; he needed to move and adjust himself so he could enjoy it just as much.

Being careful not to separate their bodies, he lifts her up in his arms and he takes a seat in her barely used desk chair. Unfortunately during the movement, he did just what he tried not to –he pulled out of her. She adjusted her bent knees on either side of him. She reached beneath her and gripped him carefully to direct his member on where to go. They groan in unison as he stretches and fills her. His fingers clamp down on the skirt of her dress, pulling her down sharply and seating himself fully inside of her in a swift movement

"I want to watch you." He whispers and she moans, tossing her head back as she lifts and then drops back down. He fills her more in this angle. He's deeper like this. She rocks harder against him, pressing her thighs more firmly against the sharp bones of his hips, her fingers scraping at the fabric on the back of his blazer.

She keeps her eyes on him, swiveling her hips, "I know you said no words but," she moaned, feeling the delicious and overwhelming drag of him inside of her, "I felt like you would make," it's hard for her to talk and think straight with him making her feel so good, "an…an exception if…if," she's stuttering, "it's a…a declaration of love."

He pressed his lips back against hers in a sloppy and desperate attempt to silence her, "No words mean no words, Erin."

And she listened to that order because by the time Erin tumbled over in a heated passion, Jay wasn't too far behind and neither had spoken a word or uttered a sound since his last assertion. They remained there, in each other's embrace, looking into each other's eyes, panting for a few seconds before he pulled out.

-x-

Erin is so desperately, positively in love with him –and she knows the feeling is mutual- and using every ounce of what she feels for him, she pulls him down to kiss her. The tears get the better of him; he honestly cannot recall the last time he has cried. His lips stutter against hers as his breath hitches, desperately biting against her bottom lip, gasping in short raps of air as his arms circle around her. Their bodies are unmoving; instead, they're leaning into each other, forehead to forehead, their lips hovering against each other's mouth.

"I can't tell you enough how sorry I truly am," she whispers; their faces so close to each other that with every word she says, her lips brush against his, "I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing," he groaned.

"I can't help it! I feel bad."

"Do you have feelings for Landon? Did you initiate the kiss? Did you want the kiss?"

"…of course not," she answered immediately.

A relieved smile spread across his face, "…then you have no reason to apologize."

She gripped his chin, forcing his lips to pucker and moments later she pressed her own lips against his, "You're too good to be true." She released his jaw.

"Better enjoy this flawless face while it's still handsome," he joked just as she started to caress the reddened skin on his face, "he got in a few decent hits so I'll probably have a nasty bruise or two by the morning. It may strip away my good looks for a few days, maybe a week."

"Nothing," she grips his chin again to direct his gaze back on her, "and I mean nothing can and will ever strip away your good looks. You're one fine man Mr. Halstead and no amount of bruises or busted lips will take that away from you."

"My girl is such a flirt," he chuckled, squeezing her waist before directing her off of his lap, "we should probably start fixing ourselves up and straightening up your office before your guards come looking for you. Getting caught by your mother was already traumatizing, I don't think I could handle your guards catching us next."

Fortunately most of their clothing remained on their bodies; it just took some minor adjustment to their formalwear and Jay disappearing to grab a few napkins from the lounge for her to clean herself up with to actually appear presentable again. As she uses the napkins to wipe her inner legs, he lifts his tie from the ground and attempts to tie it properly around his neck. After she disposes of the napkins, she walks over to flip his collar, adjust the tie and flip the collar back over to cover it up. It dangles from his neck and lays down the center of his chest, "I think this is my favorite tie of yours."

"Any particular reason?"

She lifts the tie and examines it, "Nothing fancy about it; it just so happened to clue me in on the fact that the man caressing my thigh and kissing my neck wasn't you."

"I prefer not to hear about the details."

She releases his tie, "Sorry."

"Let's straighten up your office and then head back," he replied, watching her as she went to straighten up her desk as he inspected her carpeted floor to make sure there were no droplets of blood, "I'm going to hire you a cleaning guy for your office."

"That isn't necessary," she chuckles, pushing her chair up to her desk, "It's never junky enough to warrant a maid," she pauses when she sees him on his hands and knees holding an unused napkin and dabbing at a spot, "Why?" she doesn't wait for him to answer before she sees what he was attempting to clean up, "Is that blood?"

"Yeah, I honestly don't know whether it's mine, Landon's or a mixture of the both, but its blood. It's not much of it, but if you look at your carpet hard enough you'll see it."

"Hey," she calmly whispers, reaching for his arm and pulling him up to his feet, "it's not going to come out that easily. I'll worry about that tomorrow. I'll get the number for the company that cleaned my brother's apartment because trust me, if they could make Justin's place spotless, they can make anywhere spotless. I'm sure they can get that stain out. Or even my mother, she may know how to get it out. She knows how to get wine stains out which are pretty tricky so I wouldn't be surprised if she knew how to get blood out."

"I prefer it if we could keep this from your parents."

"Any particular reason?"

He shrugs, "It's just…they already don't like me. I don't want them having another reason to not approve of our relationship."

Erin gently grabs the tie hanging around his neck –her new favorite one of his. She tugs on it to bring him closer, "I won't say anything even though I don't think that will make them not like you. My father has a past. They'll be hypocrites to judge you for this. And besides, you were defending my honor. My mom's a hopeless romantic for that type of stuff and my dad doesn't like Landon and he's always bias when it comes to me. I'm not saying I like what you did, but this might actually earn you some points with them," she smiled when he smiled, "you ready to head back down to the party? I could use a drink. And hopefully Landon decided to leave early."

"I doubt it," the smile falls from his face, "we're not that lucky."

"If he's down there, I don't want you approaching him, saying anything to him and especially hitting him again. I know," she stops talking momentarily to think before she speaks, "I can't imagine how it felt to see another man kissing and touching your girlfriend. I can't say I know what that'll do to a person, especially one who's as protective as you, but don't let his presence downstairs get under your skin. We'll spend another hour here and then we'll go home."

Home. That always had a nice sound to it. And now they both had two homes –one in D.C. and one in Chicago. Just one more hour here and then they'll be heading home. He could only count down the minutes because he truly couldn't wait.

Erin releases his tie and in an effort to remain in each other's embrace, she wrapped her arm around the back of his waist but beneath his blazer while his arm was around her shoulders. As they stepped outside of her office, she hit the light switch before shutting the door. It was dark on the floor; they were basked with only enough light to guide her from her office and to the elevator, however, they only made it less than halfway there when the floor was suddenly bathed in fluorescent light. Because their eyes became used to the darkness, they were blinded by the light. She used her hand as a visor to block the light from her eyes.

"Phoenix has been located," her codename was uttered by Atwater into the inner part of his wrist which held some device that put him into contact with her other guards.

"Relax Kev," she stepped out of Jay's embrace to walk towards her guard, "I'm fine."

By the look on his face, she could tell that he knew that. He wasn't searching for her because he was worried. Her other guards appeared. Roman's eyes drifted over her shoulder, he was scanning Jay from head to toe –they knew what happened. They weren't looking for Erin because with actual thought they knew where she was and who she was with; they were looking for her for a specific reason. She was a smart girl. She could read people. That statement needed to be amended. She could read _most_ people. Erin tilted her head as she met Atwater's eyes, "Uh, what's going on guys? Is everything okay?" She felt her heart race and her palms start to sweat.

"We knew Jay would be with you," it was Dawson who answered.

She glanced over her shoulder to meet the confusing eyes of her boyfriend, "I'm not sure I'm following. Why were you looking for him?"

"We weren't," Roman answered, tucking his hands into his pockets, "We were helping the men who were."

"What men?"

And when two officers enter the scene dressed in uniform with one dangling handcuffs from his pointer finger, her question is answered. Each separate to surround Jay as confusion spread among the faces of everyone in the room. Erin takes it upon herself to step forward in some sort of protective stance and block them from approaching her boyfriend, even though both officers were double her size and didn't appear to be intimidated by her stance, "What are you doing?"

"We're here to arrest Jay Halstead," the officer holding the handcuffs, Nick, spoke up, "and out of respect for you Ms. Voight, we're going to ask you kindly to step to the side to allow us to do our job. We want this to be as painless and as quick as possible."

Before she could rebut or argue or even question the legitimacy of their arrest, Atwater had grabbed her arm and pulled her towards him and out of the way of the police officers. She no longer stood in front of her boyfriend; her body no longer shielding his. She watched the other officer, Greg, approach and start to frisk him; he directed for Jay to spread his arms and with precision, he performed a pat down of his clothing before searching through his pockets.

"He's not concealing a weapon," she shouted from behind Atwater; he was using his large body to block her from intervening in the arrest of her boyfriend, "Kevin, I swear I won't interfere, just let me get around you! Geesh!"

Greg pulled out her boyfriend's wallet and cell phone and set the items down onto the nearest hard surface –being her secretary's desk. Erin poked her head around her bodyguard's broad shoulder, "What is this even about? What is he being accused of?"

"Ma'am," Nick hands over his handcuffs to his partner, "we're trying to work."

"I know, but it's not illegal to ask why he's being arrested."

During the whole exchange, Jay remained quiet; he learned a long time ago when he was first arrested that it is best for him to keep his mouth shut in situations like this.

"Somebody answer me!" Just as her words are uttered, Jay's arms are grabbed and pulled behind his back with a little more force than necessary. Greg began reading his Miranda rights out loud as the frustration from not being given an answer starts to overwhelm her, "Why are you arresting him? He didn't do anything! What's the charge?"

"Babe," Jay whispered; his eyes met hers and his orbs pleaded with her to relax, "it's okay."

"…but it's not okay Jay," her voice broke as the floor began to crowd with people from the party downstairs, "Officer, I…I just want to know what he's being charged with? That's all," her mouth is dry forcing her to lick her lips, "I'm asking nicely. What is he being charged with?"

Greg, the officer who remained silent throughout the entire exchange –except for when he read Jay his Miranda rights- took pity on her and it was him, who met her eyes and answered just as her boyfriend was being led away by Nick, "Assault and battery."

Just as his answered settled in the air and echoed off the walls, her eyes fell on the gathered crowd and immediately met the eyes of Landon. His nose must have been popped back into place because the bleeding stopped and he was no longer holding it. Instead, his face was stained with dried blood and bruises and the handkerchief in his hand was splotched and coated in his blood. Erin had tried not to stare at his nose but her eyes kept diverting towards it; they zeroed in on his bruised and battered nose that only a few hours before had once been perfectly ordinary and plain. Erin rolled her shoulders and tilted her head to the side the moment he mouthed an apology in her direction. Squeezing through Atwater and Dawson's bulky bodies, she walked towards him until they were toe to toe, "You called the cops."

Landon casually reminded her, "…because he assaulted me."

"And you assaulted him right back," she argued, finger aggressively poking him in the chest, "I don't know what kind of games you're trying to play, Landon, but you chose the wrong one."

"He broke the law. And just because he's a celebrity and he's dating the first daughter doesn't mean he's above it," Landon shouted before turning on his heel and walking away.

Something was definitely in the air destined to ruin their perfect night.


	40. In True Spirit

For the last five days, he lived inside the concrete walls, surrounded by razor wire that's designed to lock them in, to keep them separated from society. The air inside his cell was dry and stale; the scent of sweat wafted through what little air was in the unit. The one tiny window in his cell was covered with metal rods to ensure no occupant attempted to escape. The window was so small it provided little light to his cell, but he didn't complain, -not once. The only source of color in his cold and dark cell is the orange jumpsuit he's forced to wear to categorize him as an inmate and to separate him from the correctional officers. He was ordered to pack up his individual cell, to take the sheets off the concrete bedding that had the nerve to be called a mattress. Since his arrest, he's been housed in protective custody, in a cell by himself in a unit used to house people who are in high-profile cases or have a status in life that would put a target on their back if they were placed in general population. He was supposed to stay here until his release in a few hours. He shouldn't have had to pack up his cell, meaning his one thin sheet, and follow the correctional officers out of the sally port.

An officer stood in front of him and one stood behind him, remaining close to guarantee that he wasn't going to run away. He wasn't. He wouldn't do that. They didn't care. There was one way in and one way out; no windows that could be broken. The glass was bulletproof. The sally ports required access to be granted from the command center –security that watched the jail through surveillance cameras in a room on a separate floor. He couldn't escape if he wanted to. He's in bright orange. He wouldn't make it far. No one in command would unlock the doors from the control room because he was an inmate, a guy with his freedom taken away and forced to be confined in a correctional facility because of his charge.

He couldn't wait to be released.

One correctional officer shoved him forward when he started walking too slow. He was tired. He barely got any sleep over the last few days he'd been incarcerated. It was hard to sleep on two-inch mattresses when his back was used to the best mattress money could buy. He was sluggish. He was exhausted. He was hungry. The bruises on his face were slowly healing but the appearance they made days ago was more faded than enhanced. He was shoved again. And he wanted to say something but he knew he couldn't. He wanted to do something, maybe defend himself, but he couldn't. If he did, it would only lead to more problems for him. He could end up in segregation, -the one unit used for punishment where inmates spend 23 hours in their cell and one hour out. He should be released in a few hours; his bond was paid…or was getting paid. He just had to wait. He couldn't wait.

This facility, this jail was just concrete walls upon walls upon walls with giant units that housed a multitude of inmates ranging in crimes, backgrounds and experiences. There was a stench of sewage drifting down the halls and Jay didn't particularly care to know the source of it. This place, this jail was filled with inmates coming off of drugs, suffering from mental illness, and some who purposely committed a crime just to reap the benefits of a bed and a warm meal. It felt like torture being here. Jay couldn't imagine wanting to come here on purpose.

An officer shouts an order close enough to his ear that it sends the drum ringing. He follows it without complaint, stepping to the side and entering the sally port, to the new unit, to general population –a unit that he shouldn't be in. The correctional officers do not follow him into the sally port; he waits for the unit's officers to unlock the sally port doors on the other end to grant him entrance into the unit. And once one does, he steps inside to the stares of every inmate in the unit. He tries to shield his face with the folded sheets in his arms. It doesn't work. He's already been recognized and it didn't help that the television was on and his case was currently being talked about on the news. He was new prey for them.

The CO led him towards the nearest wall, forcing him to face it and spread his legs, taking the sheet from him temporarily to allow his palms to lay flat against the cold surface so another CO approaching could pat him down, inspecting every crevice and pocket for a weapon. He was soon cleared and the CO who had patted him down ventured further back into the unit to patrol. All eyes remained on him; he was recognizable even with an injured face. He kept close to the CO because of this, but once he unlocked Jay's newly assigned cell, he no longer had a reason to keep close to him. Instead, they parted ways; the CO back to the desk and Jay into his new cell, meeting his new cellmate –the first since he's arrived.

Jay stood under the threshold of his cell door, watching his cellmate lying on the bottom bunk with a book on his lap. He didn't look Jay's way once. He simply sighed in frustration, pointed upwards towards the top bunk and growled, "You're up there. Try not to disturb me when you climb up. I'm not in the mood to be disturbed."

His cellmate was unapproachable and to be honest a bit intimidating. Jay didn't know what he was arrested for or how long he's been in jail awaiting trial, but by the tear-shaped tattoos on his face, the long, dark scar going from his eye to the bottom of his chin and the fact that his muscles were the size of his and Atwater's combined, he wasn't curious for long. The guy looked like trouble and whether he's being charged with murder, assault, drug possession or robbery, Jay didn't want any parts in knowing any aspect about him. Ignorance is bliss especially in this case.

Jay reached forward to sit the folded sheet down onto the top bunk before leaving out of the cell. It was going to be lockdown soon and that occurred for two hours every day because of shift change and hopefully after lockdown, his bond would have been processed and it'll be time for his release. He didn't want to spend another day finding entertainment in staring down the blank and concrete walls of his cell. He didn't want to spend it sleeping with one eye open. He didn't want to watch over his shoulder, to stand his ground when it came to protecting the food on his tray and even when it came to shower time. He had been arrested before when he was younger; he didn't remember jail being like this.

He stepped out of his cell and looked around; it was weird to be in general population because protective custody was ran completely different. It was quiet in PC, but it was loud and rowdy in general pop.

It was wreck time. It was a good time to venture out of the stuffy and crowded cell. Regardless of what unit someone is housed in, all the cells are the same size and one person in the cell is already suffocating so to put two big guys in one cell was smothering. Jay took his time to walk further into the unit, glancing to one side to see the door to the small wreck yard open and spotting a few inmates playing handball, while others were on the phones lined up against the wall and the last remaining few are sitting down, watching television. The news was on. He was still the hot topic. It wasn't every day that a celebrity, a rock star and the boyfriend to the president's daughter was arrested on assault charges. It's been days but he was still the subject of breaking news. He sighed and walked further into the unit, keeping his head low to avoid eye contact. He took a seat in a plastic chair near the phones; he was going to call Erin and check the progress of his bail. She kept money on his books so he was able to make all the phone calls that he wanted. She kept money on his commissary so he could buy all the snacks he wanted. She looked out for him, visiting him during visitation hours, advising him as his lawyer and comforting him as his girlfriend. Once a phone was available, he'll get to his feet as soon as possible to get to it before someone else can.

It never happened though.

Four of the guys watching television had been staring at him since he entered the unit. They had left the television unattended, granting other inmates the chance to change the channel as they ventured over. Jay sat up straight as they approached and he only rose to his feet when he noticed their stance shift from calm and light to tense and intimidating. They were trying to scare him.

"If it isn't Jay Halstead," one of them –with a shiny gold tooth- shining under the fluorescent light spat, "billboard's top rock star. It must be our lucky day boys," he glanced at the three other men who had joined him in his quest to intimidate the rock star.

"How so?" Jay was nervous, but he wasn't going to grant them the privilege of seeing that.

"You're rich," another one of the inmates said; this one had tattoos all over his face, neck and arms, "and we're not. You have connections and we don't. Are you following?"

Jay smirked, playing it calm and casual, "I don't think I am."

"He needs bail money," the one with the gold tooth pointed towards one of the smaller, thinner guys; "I need a connection, maybe your lady friend's dad can reach out to my judge. My other guys here, they need a little bit of both."

"Sorry, I won't be able to help you."

Jay made a move to walk around them, choosing in that moment to be in the presence of his cellmate instead of these fine gentlemen. Only, it's when he takes one step, one reaches for his arm, grabbing him to keep him in place.

"I don't think you're following," gold-tooth said through gritted teeth, "it wasn't really an option. We weren't really asking."

And when Jay dry laughed at the guy truly thinking he could snap his fingers and make a change in his case, the guy didn't find it too funny. Choosing in that moment to prove how serious he is and reel his arm back to swing forward and connect his fist with Jay's mouth.

He stumbled backwards. He didn't fall. His feet planted themselves on the ground to ensure he didn't fall when the next swing made contact.

They asked again. He didn't have the power or the connections they thought he did. He refused.

And they hit him again, -and again, when he refused, -and then again when he stopped answering.

Saying no got him punched so he figured saying nothing at all may work in his favor. It didn.t

However, through each hit he remained standing because he knew other inmates were watching. He couldn't have them see him weak, see him losing because they'll assume they could do the same and bully him into giving them what they want. The four inmates slowly circled him, each wiping the blood –his blood- off their knuckles.

"Are we done?" Jay used the tip of his thumb to wipe the blood from the corner of his lip. He felt his face hardening up and he knew the bruises that were starting to fade were coming back in full force. From the impact of the hit, he knew it wouldn't take days to see the damage. The evidence was plain and clear on his face.

"What is that pretty little lady gonna think bout your face when she sees it?" The fourth guy, the one who remained quiet through the exchange had finally spoken up, "Your girl need a real man, not some lil bitch. When she comes to visit you, won't you send her my way so I can show her how a real man would handle that delectable body of hers?" He concluded his words with a wink of his left eye. That's when Jay snapped, pulling his fist back to immediately connect it with the jaw of the fourth man. And all hell broke loose when the four men ganged up on him, punching him hard enough to make him fall to the ground, causing other inmates to surround the fight and cheer it on as the correctional officers called a signal.

In a jail, a signal being called was nothing new. The emergency response team, dressed in their riot gear entered the unit, batons and cans of mace in hand, spraying whichever inmates were in their way on their quest to break up the fight. Jay was hurt. Besides the visible bruises and the bleeding, he refused to show pain. Two of the guys kicked him in the stomach. He glanced up at the clock before averting his eyes towards the chaos around him. He saw the officers taking control of their unit, locking people up or dragging them out of the unit and towards segregation. He remained on the floor, unmoving, watching the scene unfold around him in slow motion. He froze. A CO approached him, offering a hand to help him up, "Halstead," he said with an unimpressed look on his face, "We just got word that your bond has been posted and processed." That was music to his ears. He was finally going to be released.

-x-

A barrier had to be put up around the perimeter of the facility. Outside of the D.C. jail swarms and swarms of paparazzi and fans gathered to either capture the first photos of Jay's release or protest his arrest in the first place. Fans didn't think he deserved to be detained. Paparazzi just saw price signs, knowing that outlets all over the country would pay a heavy sum for the first photo of Jay departing the city jail. And Erin was here to walk alongside him. Despite the suggestion from her parents, from her father's campaign manager and even from her guards that it'll be too chaotic and she should stay home, she disagreed. This is when Jay needed her the most. Christmas was in a few days. And if it wasn't for the stupid weekend, he would have been home with her, wrapping presents and sliding them under the tree.

Jay had to spend the weekend locked up. The courts are closed during the weekend so he couldn't go in front of a judge for bond hearing until Monday afternoon, and by Tuesday morning, Erin had posted his bond and by the evening, his bond was processed, the stipulations of his release were given and by six in the evening, he was out of the orange jumpsuit and back in his street clothes –well, his tuxedo; the same outfit they arrested him in.

Erin filled in as his lawyer during his bond hearing. She didn't practice criminal law, but she didn't hesitate to assign herself as his counsel. His criminal history was used against him. He had a lengthy record including reckless driving, driving under the influence and a few assault charges. Fortunately, his charitable work and donations shed him in a good light, along with the fact that it's been years –two, almost three to be exact- since his last arrest. He's been staying out of trouble –kind of. Erin waited in the lobby of the jail; he had to go through processing and wait for his possessions to be released. She was growing antsy. With each minute that passed, she expected something to go wrong, something that would prohibit her boyfriend from leaving the jail, like getting his bond revoked. She started pacing; the only sound in the room is her heels clicking against the tiled floor.

"You're going to pace a hole into the floor," a hired guard, Philip, shared his opinion, one that Erin truly didn't feel like hearing.

Will had taken it upon himself to hire a few additional bodyguards to escort his brother from the jail to Erin's house. He paid a hefty sum just for men to surround him as they walk to and from the car and the second he's safely inside Erin's condo, their jobs are over. Erin simply rolled her eyes at his comment and out of spite she increased the speed in which she paced until she heard his voice, "Hey Er," it's the man of the hour.

He gave a weak smile, one that didn't reach his eyes. The bruising on his face is more pronounced now that the injuries had a chance to settle in. Some appear to be healing; some appear to be brand new. She ran up to him despite the yellow wet floor sign opened up and situated on the floor that was just finished being mopped. She ran into his arms; her first bit of physical contact from him that didn't warrant correctional officers reminding them that hugging inmates isn't allowed. She wrapped her arms around him and the two rocked side to side as their embrace on one another tightened.

"Are you okay?" She pulls away the second she heard him groan, "I'm sorry. Did I hurt you?"

"I'm fine Erin," he whispers, casually rubbing against the side of his waist.

"What happened?" She gripped his chin as if she were a concerned mother, tilting his head to the left then to the right to examine his injuries, "Landon laid a few good hits, but not enough to do all this. What happened?"

"This morning I was moved out of protective custody."

Protective custody was reserved for inmates who posed a risk of being harmed by other inmates. It was typically reserved for cops who broke the law, celebrities, snitches and sometimes, very rarely sex offenders. He should have stayed in protective custody until he was released. She glanced over his shoulder at the guard who escorted him out, "Who signed off on reclassifying him to another unit when he should have stayed under protective custody?"

"Erin, its fine, really," he attempted to reassure her.

She couldn't drop it so easily. She pulled enough all-nighters that she had flashbacks to law school where she stayed up all night to study for finals. She drank enough coffee in the last few days that she's pretty sure it's mixed in with her blood. She had been busy with her boyfriend's case, with dealing with the press, the fans and the paparazzi, with hiring a cleaning company –by recommendation of her mother- to get the blood out of every strand of fiber in the carpet, with avoiding the calls from her boss and with remembering to eat and that coffee is not food and cannot substitute for nutrition. She was running close to E with worry and by the look of the newly defined bruises on his face, it was with good reason.

"I'm not above suing this place," Erin argued to the poor, unfortunate guard who had no say in the decision to transfer Halstead out of the protective unit and into general population, "I will have your job," she points to the guard, "your job," she points to another, "and your job," she points to the third, "if I find out that there was malicious intent to purposely place my client inside of a unit that risked his safety despite the fact that he met all criteria to be housed in protective custody pending his release."

Jay, now being in the lobby of the jail in his plain clothes, was a free man, at least until his court date at the end of January. While most times after being released on bail, you have travel restrictions in place that prevent you from leaving the state. The judge made an exception in Jay's case, since his career involves him traveling, he's allowed as long as he makes it back for his scheduled court date. If he's late or if he doesn't show then a failure to appear will be drawn and a warrant will be issued for his arrest and he'll be given a new court date and no bond will be set which means he'll have to sit behind bars until it's time for him to go to court. The guards disappear; Jay was no longer a detainee and therefore no longer their problem.

"Ugh, this place is full of incompetent people," she spat like a petulant child, stomping her foot and crossing her arms. Her boyfriend was hurt and she had every right to be miffed about it.

"It doesn't bother me." He's referring to the bruises and the aches.

"That doesn't make it better and that doesn't justify it either!"

"It's not like I didn't deserve it," he shrugs. And her heart fills with sympathy. He looks defeated and not like the man she's grown to love over the past eight months.

"You didn't," she argued; her hand flies up to cover his mouth before he's able to retort, "One of the founding principles of our justice system is innocent until proven guilty and that seems to be forgotten because in the court of public opinion it's the opposite. You didn't deserve that. Just because you're wealthy and you've got a strong support system that will beat this charge doesn't give other _inmates_ the right to shit on you as if their shit doesn't stink!"

"…another metaphor please," he grumbled. And the two of them laughed at that. The thick fog that gloomed throughout the lobby finally lifting up as the mood shifts.

"Sorry about that, but babe, you're important and I love you and I can't sit back quietly while the man I love gets hurt. If the situation was reversed, you would do the same thing."

…if not more, to be honest. Jay squeezed her hip before turning to face her guards; he gave each of them a handshake out of appreciation for them bringing Erin here; he knew they probably advised against it, but he was happy nonetheless that they actually did eventually give in. The second he finished shaking Sorensen's hand, he turned to face the other guards who were in the room that he hadn't recognized, "Your brother hired them," she must have read his mind, "ever since you was arrested, you've been top trending all over the country. There's this hashtag going around called Free Jay; it's absolutely epic," she chuckles. He didn't find it all that funny. He actually did what he's being charged with doing; he felt they should save those hashtags for when an innocent person is arrested, charged and convicted for a crime they didn't commit.

Before Erin could open her mouth to continue, her phone rings and without even checking to see who's calling, she swipes her finger across the screen and answers, "Hello."

"Erin, we just parked near your condo. Are you sure we won't be towed?"

"Your car should be fine," she reassures, "they don't start towing until after ten pm."

"Cool, cool, are you there with Jay now?"

She nods, forgetting that he couldn't see her, "Yeah."

"How is he?"

"You'll see when we get there," she didn't want to talk about her boyfriend while she was standing in front of him, "we're about to leave in a few minutes. Go inside and make yourselves comfortable. Help yourself to whatever is in my fridge."

"Is someone there to let us in?"

"The key is under the mat," she answered right away before hanging up. They could continue talking when they were home. She was tired of seeing the gray, dull walls of the jail lobby. It was stuffy and she knew that if she needed fresh air then Jay was in high demand for it.

This was the part where her guards stepped in to advise them on the next few steps. Erin was knowledgeable in law, not when it came to making an exit that guaranteed her safety. She stood to the side with Jay as her guards discussed possible ways to extract Phoenix from the facility –those were their words and their lingo.

"I dreamt about you last night."

She turned around at the sound of his voice, "Oh really?"

"Yeah, I actually dreamt about you every night since I've been here," he shrugs in an effort to pretend his words are no big deal, "it helped me actually get more than one hour of sleep." His words meant everything to her, but she knew him, and right now wasn't the time to focus on the way his words affected her. Instead, she focused on changing the conversation.

"If you don't mind me asking, what led up to the fight? How'd that happen?"

"It's not really that important."

"Everything involving you is important. Come on, you can tell me anything."

"Please let this stay between us."

"Cross my heart and hope to die," she promised her silence and to reinforce her words, she made a sign of the cross over her chest as she waited with bated breath to hear about her boyfriend's troubling experience only hours before he was set to be released.

Jay took a hold of her hand and pulled her off to the side to ensure no one overheard. For the second time since she saw him post-injury, she took in his face. The fluorescent light flickering above their head gave her a better view than the dim lighting did a few feet away. One eye was swollen, almost completely shut. It was the eye that Landon hit, but she knew the inflammation and puffiness didn't come from Landon's fist, it came from whatever happened. That poor eye couldn't catch a break. The corner of his bottom lip was split and speckled with dry blood. She saw the corner of his forehead, a small gash that fortunately didn't need any stitches, but unfortunately will probably leave a scar. And finally resting on the center of his cheek was the biggest bruise of them all with a gash in the middle of it. She craved desperately to caress the back of her hand against the side of his face, but she feared that it'll only cause him harm and discomfort.

"Don't worry about me," he whispered.

"That's easier said than done."

"I brought this on myself."

"I highly doubt that," she wrapped her arms around his waist; she craved him over the last few days, "How about you tell me what happened?"

"It was probably a couple of minutes after I was moved to general pop," even though he felt Erin's chin against his chest and her head angled up to face him, he couldn't meet her eyes, he just continued to stare forward, "I got to my cell and put my stuff down and it was wreck time so everyone was out in the unit so I decided to venture out, take advantage of being out of the stuffy cell, you know?" he felt her nod, "and some guys were playing handball, others were on the phones with their attorneys and then the last remaining few were watching television and the news was on the one channel that the television gets and of course I'm plastered all over it with my connection to you being mentioned in every other sentence."

"What did they do?"

"It wasn't everyone; it was just four."

"Four, Jay?"

"I held my own as much holding my own one guy can do against four."

"Why bother you in the first place?"

"Since I just got to the unit, circulation of who I am didn't really make it around until my face was plastered all over the television along with yours. They said I had money and connections and they wanted me to use that to get them out. This," he pointed towards his busted lip," was because I laughed it off the first time they asked assuming they were joking. This," he points to his forehead, "was because I refused the second time they asked, and this," he points to his eye and then his cheek, "was because I flat out ignored them the third time."

When he pointed around his face, for the first time, Erin was able to look at the damage and bruising done to his knuckles. She grabbed for his hand, "Your knuckles babe."

"After I refused, a few of them said some things about you that I don't want to repeat."

He was defending her honor. He shouldn't have had to defend her honor. He shouldn't have been here in the first place. Landon threw hits at Jay too. Landon initiated and instigated the assault. While Jay shouldn't have assaulted him, Landon isn't innocent in the entire fiasco either.

"Erin! Jay!" Atwater called out, meeting them halfway along with the other guards in the room, "We have two vehicles. Dawson went to get ours," he looked at Erin and then averted his eyes towards Jay, "and Philip went to get the other."

"I'm riding with you," Jay cut in before Atwater could continue with the plan.

"Yeah, I figured. The other guards your brother hired will hold the crowd back as we get you guys to the truck. Phillip will follow us out of the perimeter of the jail and he'll park to block the entrance and exit to hold off any paparazzi, journalists or fans from getting in their vehicle to follow. It'll buy us enough time to put distance between us."

Atwater pulled a spare set of shades off his face and extended them towards Erin. She used them to get into the facility and she'll definitely need them to get out. The amount of reporters, journalists, paparazzi and fans waiting outside was more than any of them were used to. Erin slid them onto her face before turning back to face her boyfriend, "Did someone on the medical staff check out your face? It looks really bad, babe."

"I'm fine, really, Erin, I'm okay." He didn't want her to worry about him. He just wanted to go home, -their home, in D.C.

Erin found herself caressing his cheek; it's a habit that she's suddenly developing that probably won't end until his face is healed. She slid the shades off her face and slid them onto his.

"It's going to be crazy out there and you suffered enough."

"You need to protect your eyes," he starts to slide them off his face when her hand is raised to stop him. She won't accept them. He needs them more than her.

"I'm pretty sure you don't want documented proof in the form of pictures of your face."

"What about you?"

She smiled. He was always concerned about her comfort. Now, it's her turn.

"I'm going to be fine."

"We'll be together."

This time, he initiated a kiss, one that was small, simple, quick and chaste.

"It's even more people out there and the crowd is growing rowdy," Roman informed, sacrificing his comfort and pulling the shades off his face to hand to Erin. Without any argument, she accepted and thanked him with a smile.

"Be careful out there Er," and there he goes again worrying about her, being concerned for her. He was the one who spent more than one night in jail, was involved in a fight and is now being released on bond with a discolored face. She should be worried about him.

"I'm going to be fine. And so are you. Just take a deep breath."

He followed her instructions. He inhaled –she counted to ten- then he exhaled. This happened as they approached the exit, -three times to be more precise.

Jay shot one last glance at Erin while each guard took a firm stance around them. He was never concerned with paparazzi or fans or the flashing bright lights of their cameras or recording devices. It never bothered him. What bothered him was that it bothered Erin. He didn't want her uncomfortable and whatever drew discomfort from her made him protective, defensive and on guard. He wasn't nervous to face them, to leave the facility. He was irked because he knew how much this stuff bothered his girlfriend. As she clung on to him, he felt his irritation grow.

"You can do it, Er. I'll help you."

She gave a dry laugh, one plagued with disbelief, "Shouldn't I be the one saying that to you?"

"…not necessarily," he murmured, brushing his lips across the top of her head.

And just as she was about to speak, to reply with some sort of sarcastic comment, the double doors were opened and they were met with an endless stream of flashes that one would have thought the sun was out. It was bright. If it weren't for the dark shades covering her eyes, she wouldn't have been able to see anything. She clung onto her boyfriend, face buried into his chest as he steered them forward. Her guards are covering the front; the hired guards are covering the rear. It was no over exaggeration. Paparazzi are swarming the area. Fans are too. People are holding posters, demanding his release. Reporters are there speaking into microphones, staring down the lens of the cameras focused on them.

The group picked up their pace. And Erin thanked whatever force was on her side that convinced her to wear comfortable shoes today –even though they were heels, they were comfortable heels. She was able to keep up without stumbling. Jay tightened his hold on her when they had to squeeze through the fans; it was them who liked to touch and pull and yank and push, -at least he knew the paparazzi would never put their hands on her.

It didn't stop the fans. They reached, they pulled, they pushed and they did whatever was in their power to touch him, even if it meant putting their hands on her. Her guards' barked orders, threats and commands for everyone to back away, warning that assaulting the first daughter of the country would be considered a federal offense. Most heeded the warning while others didn't hear it or pretended not to hear it and thinking they'll cite ignorance –even though it's not a defense of the law- if they're arrested for it.

Erin felt another shove; she also felt the corner of someone's poster board brush against her face, the edge of the paper gently slicing across her skin resulting in a pretty painful paper cut that was long enough to stretch across her entire chin. She yelped. Her hand flew to her chin out of instinct. The pain felt disproportionate to the appearance of a minor cut. For such an insignificant flesh wound, it sure did hurt like hell. She didn't realize she'd stopped walking until she felt her boyfriend grip her wrist, pulling her hand away from her chin in order to pull her forward. He moved his hand from her wrist to her waist, finding better leverage there to guide her onward.

He didn't notice her cut. Or maybe he did but he could only worry about one thing at a time.

Jay saw the truck up ahead and he saw the crowd grow louder and rowdier. Fans were dropping their signs, but their chants for his release continued. He appreciated it, he truly did, but this was all unnecessary. He's free, -at least for now. Fans moved in closer, forcing the guards that his brother hired to intervene and tackle a few of them to the ground. Jay picked up his pace; his strides were longer, his steps were wider and his walk was faster. Erin could barely keep up, but he never let go of her. If anything, his grip around her waist tightened. It tightened enough that her feet left the ground and he was carrying her over his shoulder. He picked up his pace. She covered her face in embarrassment as her boyfriend weaved through the crowd in order to get to the truck faster. Dawson stood near the door, pulling it wide open as they approached.

Erin felt herself being lowered back onto her feet. She slid inside the back of the truck as her boyfriend raced around to the other side. The paper cut on her chin stinging, but it was of no concern. It's not life threatening; it just hurts like hell. She can't get over how such a small cut could be so painful. She'll have to remember it's there when she's washing her face, otherwise, she'll be in for a rude awakening when soap combined with the warm water pressure beats against the fresh gash. She buckles herself in just as her guards hop into the car.

Jay had managed to get in unscathed and before doing anything else, he turned to face her, "Is your seatbelt on?" He's out of breath. His face is red and flushed. His eyes zero in on her chin.

He didn't notice the cut outside when he pulled her hand from her chin.

And based on the way his gaze was looking at it, he definitely noticed it now. Maybe it was longer than she originally thought? Maybe it was a bit deeper than the average paper cut? Maybe it wasn't the poster board that did it? Maybe it was the nails of one of his fans who were reaching, scratching and scrawling in an effort to get to him? He cupped her face, eyes expecting the cut on her chin, "Who did that?"

"I…I don't know," she answers; her voice is unsteady. For as many times as they've walked through crowds of fans, paparazzi and reporters, none had been so violent and forceful

Jay's body practically jerks back as the truck speeds off. The guards his brother hired follow closely behind in their truck until they reach the exit. He sees the truck disappear with every amount of distance placed between them. The truck is blocking others from leaving, holding them off long enough for them to get a head start. Jay turned back to his girlfriend until Atwater cleared his throat, "We need you to buckle your seatbelt," and Jay didn't argue with this demand, "Erin," Atwater unbuckled his own seat belt in order to inch himself over to inspect her chin, "I need to know if you can describe who did that."

"It's a little scratch. It's not important."

"You're the president's daughter," Atwater reminded, gripping her chin lightly in order to inspect the damage, "We have to investigate this. It doesn't matter how small or insignificant you think it is; we still have to look into it. Whether it's a cut on the chin, a stomp on the toe or even a push to the ground, any amount of physical assault," she opened her mouth to argue, to cut him off, but he didn't let her, "any amount of physical assault towards a member of the first family has to be investigated whether you agree or not."

"You can investigate it, but I'm not pressing charges. I have more important things to worry about," she glanced over, eyes finding her boyfriend's, "How are you feeling?"

Atwater moved back to his seat and buckled his seat belt. He pulled out his phone, most likely texting the chief of secret service to request a warrant for the surveillance cameras outside of the jail. He was going to investigate it and whether she was pressing charges or not wouldn't matter because they'll use the fan who did it as an example on what would happen if someone were careless enough to injure her. She couldn't worry about that now. She turned in her seat, hand caressing the side of her boyfriend's jaw, "You don't deserve this."

"Maybe I should just stay at a hotel," he glanced down towards his lap, refusing to meet her eyes, "once they're able to leave the jail, they'll just come straight to your place."

"You're staying over," she asserted, leaving no room for argument, "this is your home too and we're not going to let them get in the way of that. That's our home. We live there together. We pay the bills together," which started to officially happen the first of this month. She goes in half on his place in Chicago and he goes in half on her place in D.C, "We go home together."

He couldn't argue with that. So, he didn't.

Instead, he held her face in the palm of his head, bringing her head forward to allow him to look closer. Her skin was cut. Flecks of red dotted the outline of the cut. He tilted her head in the opposite direction to see just how far the cut traveled. It went straight across her chin. It wasn't thin enough to be from a poster board alone. Yeah, it could have got her, but something else got her too. Jay leaned forward and pressed his lips against it, only for her to hiss and move her head away, "It stings!"

"Sorry," he released her jaw.

"It's okay, but please don't worry about me. My fraction of a cut is nothing in comparison to your face," it was her turn to reach her hand up, "Maybe one of my guys can clean your face up when we get home? They're all certified in first aid." She glanced over her shoulder and each one of them nodded; they're all up for the challenge of helping Jay.

By the time they're standing outside her front door, they're absolutely exhausted. Her guards entered her home, searching it to ensure it was safe for entrance. She heard other voices inside and had almost immediately forgot that his brother and his band were all there. She really wasn't in the mood for socializing. She just wanted her guys to clean his face then leave so they can go to bed. It's been an extremely taxing day.

"Whoa, shit man, the hell happened to your face?" It's Ruzek's response that earns an eye roll from him and Erin.

"I got in a little fight."

"A little," Will retorted; his eyes wide in shock.

"And what happened to you?" It's Burgess who notices the slight cut to Erin's chin.

The first daughter just shrugs it off, "A fan got a little too excited." Rixton scoffed, drawing in the eyes of everyone in the room, with Erin silently pleading for him to not start anything because they made some true progress in their relationship and she didn't want to go backwards.

"I love the fans and all but really? They're stooping to assault now. You okay?"

She sighed at his words, shoulders slumping forward, "I'm fine. It's nothing to worry about."

Rixton walked over, hand falling to her shoulder and giving it a reassuring squeeze before walking off to her kitchen to help himself to a beer. They weren't best friends, but they weren't enemies either. It's definitely a push in the right direction. He didn't insult her. He kind of defended her…maybe? She wouldn't question it too much because he actually sounded like he cared about her. She looked across the living room to meet the eyes of her boyfriend; he was still pissed at Rixton and it showed all in the glare Jay was shooting his way.

Dawson appeared from her master bathroom, holding a first aid kit in his hand. He directed Jay towards a seat before stooping down in front of him to begin cleaning up the open wounds on his face. Fortunately, nothing needed stitches.

"Erin, can you bring me an ice pack or a bag of frozen peas?" She goes to her freezer and retrieves a bag of frozen peas, tossing it towards Sorensen who tossed it towards Dawson.

"So, what are we going to do about all of this?" Will asked, shifting gears to focus the conversation on the pressing topic, "What's the damage and what's the plan to overcome it?"

"I've been working on a statement to release to the band's twitter account," Natalie informed, wagging her phone in the air as she reread the statement for the hundredth time to ensure it was vague enough to not box them in, but it addressed and answered the public's concerns, "I'm going to post it and when I do, I need you all to retweet it."

Everyone in the room nodded so seconds later when it's posted, it was no surprise when every individual in the room, including Erin's guards, had reached inside their pocket to withdraw their phone to do the task assigned to them. Will started to pace as he watched the number of retweets double, triple and quadruple in mere seconds. The band was still trending. Jay specifically was trending number one. Will didn't like this bad press. He couldn't stop pacing. He couldn't stop running his hand through his hair.

"Can you stop?" Jay asked, frustrated. Dawson gave him a look, signaling for him to stop moving as he cleaned up his busted lip, "Sorry Antonio."

"I can't help it," Will sighed, flopping down beside his brother, "I'm worried."

"Well don't be. I'm not worried or concerned because I got a great lawyer," his eyes flashed to his girlfriend, "and the holidays are coming up," he looks back to his brother, "and I don't want to think or talk about it. I just want to focus on Christmas, and getting my girlfriend a gift, and going to sleep on a mattress that's not made to injure your back. Just text me when you get home…or I guess, back to the hotel. Let's save the freaking out for another day."

Will opened his mouth to argue but Natalie grabbed his arm, yanking him towards the door before he could get a word out. Ruzek grabbed himself a beer to go before following his wife out. Mouse walked over, hesitating in front of Erin to look at her chin, "You sure you're alright?" And sometimes Erin finds herself forgetting that he –in addition to Burgess- deemed himself her biggest fan so when he expressed concern; she had to remember where it was stemming from. She didn't verbally answer. She silently nodded. He leaned forward and for the first time he pecked her forehead before turning to Jay, "Call me if you need anything."

Jay nodded, providing his friend with a grateful smile. He appreciated that he lent his support without probing and being overly worried. He provided just enough affection. Mouse backed away from the couple, waving for Rixton to pass him a beer before the two of them headed out of the condo. Her guards were all that were left. And the second Dawson finished cleaning up Jay's face, he turned to dab at the cut on her chin before applying a Band-Aid to it and then placing the first aid kit back beneath the sink in the bathroom before they headed out, most likely to trade positions with Capp who reported for duty a few minutes ago.

The two of them had no intention of going anywhere except the bedroom. They were exhausted.

And he wasn't lying when he said he missed the feeling of a good mattress beneath his back. He stripped himself to his boxers; she stripped herself to her underwear, grabbing one of his shirts to throw over herself before they climbed into bed.

"Do you want to watch something?" She asked, grabbing the remote from the nightstand.

He shrugged just as she tucked herself into his side, curling her body around his as she used the remote to turn on the television, "What do you want to watch?"

"It doesn't really matter," he drew her closer to him, inhaling the intoxicating scent of her hair, "I just really missed this. And I doubt I'll make it through any type of movie or show."

"Sweet dreams then babe," she whispered, lying her head against his chest as she left her television on some type of food channel; she wanted to avoid watching the news at all cost, "I'll still be here when you wake up."

-x-

"It's two sugars, right?"

Erin remembered there used to be a time when he could never get her coffee order right and now she couldn't recall a moment where it's ever tasted so better.

The mug is placed down in front of her before he takes a seat next to her. His behind welcoming the comfortable fluffiness of the cushion in contrast to whatever it is the county jail tried to pass off as a mattress. He leaned his back against the throw pillows and he tilted his head back, resting it against the back of the couch. His eyes closed. And she watched his chest rise and fall with every inhale and exhale of breath.

"Babe," he opens one eye to look at her, "I think we should discuss your case."

"It's not until late next month."

She shifted in her seat, folding one leg beneath her in order to face him fully, "That's not that far away. It's the end of December. Christmas is right around the corner and New Year's is just a few days after that. I want us to talk about it."

"I don't want to talk about it, Erin," he whispers pleadingly. He's searching the crevice between each couch cushion looking for the remote. Every second he goes without it, he grows more and more frustrated, "Have you seen the remote?" He was tempted to go in her bedroom to see if the remote to her bedroom television works on the TV in the living room.

Erin shrugged, silently agreeing to drop their earlier topic, "I'm not sure. It's always the last place you look."

"Of course it is," he growls with a bit more attitude than she deserves, "Why the heck would you keep looking after you've found it? Do people actually do that?" She laughed at that and her laugh was too kind and heartfelt and pure for him to remain mad and frustrated, not at her but at his predicament. He gave up on searching for the remote, choosing instead to sit comfortably on the couch and cruise through the apps on his phone.

Erin lifted her coffee mug and took a sip, "Did you make yourself a cup?"

"Nah," he waved off the question, "that was the last of the coffee." It seems she forgot to go grocery shopping while he's been locked away.

"Take mine." She held her mug of coffee out towards him. He definitely needed it more than her.

He took a hold of the warm mug carefully, "How about we share?" He took a large gulp, appreciating the warmth and the kick the brown, strong beverage provided. He handed it back to her and smirked when she took her own large gulp of the warm liquid. It had cooled off during their earlier discussion, debate, or argument –whichever one someone wants to call it.

"I was thinking," she took another small sip before holding it out towards him, "maybe today we can stay indoors and cuddle up and watch some holiday movies."

"That's if we can find the remote," and she laughed at his quip, enjoying the look of relaxation on his face. Finally, he's relaxing and the tension is leaving his shoulders.

She heard her phone vibrating against the coffee table and she lifts it to see a message from Peter Stone, her friend and the mayor of Indianapolis. When Jay holds the mug of coffee back out towards her, she shakes her head, signaling for him to finish it up and it didn't take long for him to do just that. Erin typed in her passcode before opening her message app to see what her old friend had sent her.

 _I heard what happened. I can recommend some great lawyers in the DMV area if you're interested, -PS_

She didn't need any recommendations. She was going to be his lawyer.

 _I appreciate it, Peter, but I have it all under control, no thank you, -EV_

 _Just let me know if you change your mind. I'm just a phone call away, -PS_

Erin didn't respond to that because she doubted that her mind would be changed. No one would be able to represent him better than her, a woman with a vested interest in the defendant. Erin glanced over to her boyfriend, watching him browse through his social medial accounts.

He tries not to think about his court date next month. It's proving to be hard with every day that passes considering the topic of his arrest remains to be current and top trending news. He doesn't want to think or be reminded of his court date at all. It's not trial, but it'll still be a monumental day because they'll find out if the district is going to continue with the charges and if so, he'll have to state his plea.

Unfortunately, that's all Erin can think about; she's worried; she wants to visit Landon but her mother and the band and Jay all seem to think that's a bad idea. She wants to threaten him with a lawsuit or even press charges against him for the assault he did against her boyfriend but it would appear retaliatory. She needed to figure something out. She had a month to do so.

Her phone rings.

For the last couple of days, Severide had been calling and she'd been avoiding. The one time in the history of her friendship with him, she didn't answer his call because she had every intention of avoiding it. She couldn't do it for long. That's not how her relationship with him works. She swiped her finger across the screen and stepped out of the living room in order to get a semblance of privacy in the dining room, "Hey Sev."

"Don't hey Sev me," he retorted, a hint of frustration, worry and relief in his voice, "I've been calling you and you've been avoiding me."

"I haven't been avoi-"

"Don't deny it," he cuts her off, shaking his head aggressively, "I've known you too long, Erin. I know avoidance from you when I see it, or experience it or whatever. I'm worried."

"I don't want you to worry."

And with that statement, he decides to step it up a notch. He calls her -or more specifically, he facetimes her and she feels forced to answer.

"I just want you to protect yourself. I want you to protect your heart and I want you to stay out of trouble. Please. I don't want to have to fly all the way down there just to kick somebody's ass and then get arrested," his tone was serious but she found amusement in his words. He knew how to cheer her up. She smirked; he smirked back until the image on the screen cleared, "What happened to your chin? Why do you have a bandage covering it?"

"There was a little incident when we were leaving the jail."

"Erin," he sighed, concern falling over his features, "what…what happened?"

"You're too young to be developing worry lines. They'll become permanent if you keep stressing," she tried to change the subject or crack a joke or a combination between the two but by the look on his face he wasn't having it and she forced out a sigh, "we were leaving the jail, it was a bunch of chaos outside and someone scratched me. It's nothing to worry about; no stitches were needed and there was no bruising. It was just a slight ache and the Band-Aid is just there as a precaution but other than that, nothing, nada, I'm a-okay!"

A long silence fell over the phone. Kelly stared forward and he was unmoving and unblinking and for a moment Erin thought the camera had frozen. She was about to wave her hand in the air, call out his name or do something to break his concentration when he finally spoke up, "I'm booking a flight."

"No, you are absolutely not."

"Erin Voight."

"Kelly Severide."

He sighed, "I know how you feel about that word but I don't care right now. You're my best friend," she felt her breath get caught in her throat, "and I love you and I care about you so much and you're like a sister to me. You're closer to me than family. You know more about me than my own family. We protect each other. We're there for each other and right now you need me to be there for you."

"I love you too Kelly, but I'm fine. It's the holiday. Stay local, try to enjoy and appreciate your time with your dad," he rolled his eyes at that but she continued nonetheless, "we're not focusing on the case right now. We want a break from it. We just want to enjoy the holiday season."

"…but your chin."

"It's a fucking scratch," she laughed; she didn't see the big deal. So what she's the president's daughter…it's still a scratch; it'll heal in a day or two. It doesn't even sting anymore.

Kelly sighs, "You're right. And I won't make an impulsive purchase on a plane ticket to come down there but you have to promise me, no more avoiding."

"Fine, no more avoiding."

"I'm serious Erin."

"I know, I know and I promise. No more avoiding."

Severide nodded, eyes falling back onto the bandage. That's a pretty big, square bandage. He wanted to see the cut and be the judge of it himself but he knew her, she wouldn't show him. She didn't want to talk about herself, not when her priority was Jay. Maybe he can help with that?

"Does Jay need a lawyer?" He asks, "I have a few contacts living out in the D.C. area that I met at the conference earlier in the year. I could call one of them."

"That's really sweet of you, Sev, and I'm sure Jay would appreciate it, but that's not necessary. I want to thank you for offering but I'm going to represent him."

"Erin, you know that's a bad idea," he whispered gently; he knew Jay was a much protected topic of hers so he wanted to approach it as smoothly as possible, "You're too close to this. There's a conflict of interest. And you're not a criminal defense attorney; you're a _civil rights_ lawyer. Yeah, you know the basics but you've never defended anyone in a criminal case, it was always civil. Look, I just want you to think about it."

"I can defend him Severide, I have this under control."

"Just please think about it…"

She nods and fortunately they're on facetime so she isn't forced to make a verbal agreement, instead, a silent nod was sufficient enough. Erin was prepared to voice her concern, her worry that leads into the reason why she needs to represent him and why she doesn't trust another lawyer to do it or put as much energy into his case as is needed. She was ready to talk this out, to use him as a sounding board that she trusted when she saw an incoming call come in from Annie.

"Are you getting a call?" Severide asked the second he heard her phone make some type of noise. She doesn't ignore the call; she simply allows it to ring until it goes to voicemail.

"Yeah, I was getting a call. It was from Annie."

"You want to call me back?"

"No," her quick response sent his brows rising high upon his forehead.

"You're avoiding her," was his simple observation.

"Maybe…"

"What happened to your promise of no avoiding?"

She's shaking her head, prepared to defend her earlier statement, "That was a promise to you, not to her. That promise did not involve me talking to Annie."

"Erin…"

"She brought Charlie into my life," Erin spat, voice raising a bit louder than intended, "when I was a teenager, she brought this grown ass man into my life who had introduced me to things a kid shouldn't be introduced to. She had a kid with him. She's forever connected to him, but I'm not and she forgets that, Kelly. She forgets so when he nags her, bothers her, calls her nonstop, she brings me into it. Maybe she thinks if he bothers me then he'll stop bothering her? Or maybe she thinks if he bothers me then I'll handle it and fight her battles for her so he leaves the both of us alone? She always does this! He showed up at my place because of her! He got my phone number because of her! He threatened to expose my background because of her! I'm done with her, Kelly. I'm done!" And Kelly was smart enough to know that this topic wasn't up for debate.

He didn't particularly find anything to argue against it. He was in agreement. Good riddance to Annie. The phone call between her and Severide lasted for another five to ten minutes before he was called away by what sounded like Stella. She'll have to ask him about that later. But, for right now, she needs to respond to her mother who is calling out her name from the living room. She wasn't expecting a visit. Why's she here? She didn't know.

"Hey mom," the atmosphere felt awkward; she hadn't seen her mother in person since the incident with Jay on the couch, "what are you doing here?"

"I came to drop off your father's rally schedule for next year," she extended a manila folder towards her daughter, "I just need you to look through it when you get a chance and tell us which dates and locations you think you'll be able to host."

Erin noticed that everything about her mother was avoiding Jay. Her body was faced away from him and her eyes refused to glance in his direction. Her mother even found herself avoiding eye contact with her own daughter. Erin found it slightly amusing and slightly embarrassing. Did her father know? Did her mother tell him? Please don't let Christmas dinner be weird; she's keeping her fingers crossed and she's hoping and praying. Camille wants to talk about it in private, but Erin pretends she can't pick up on the hint. She would rather avoid it and act like it never happened, but her mother, her sweet, dear mother always wanted to talk about everything. Erin flipped through the pages inside the folder, "I'll look at this and get right back to you on it. Hopefully I can make more than one of the rallies."

"I hope so too sweetheart," Camille squeezed her daughter's hand. Her eyes still avoided the identical orbs of her daughter. This was becoming awkward real fast.

"I have a huge fan base. If you're interested, I could encourage voters to go out there to vote and maybe I can make a rally or two with Erin; it'll be good publicity for the president and it'll definitely shed him in a better light with millennial voters. I heard the polls weren't looking too good with him and that generation of voters," Jay spoke up and at his words, Camille found herself turning around to face him for the first time since she arrived.

"You would do that?"

Jay shrugged, "…of course."

Camille wants to thank him, to hug him and shake his hand for his offer, but the bruising on his face catches her off guard. She looks back at her daughter, finally lifting her eyes to look at her face and the bandage on her chin surprises her. She was so busy avoiding eye contact that she hadn't seen the injuries. Camille rushes across the room to Jay, "What the hell happened to your face?" Standing at a closer distance, she could see the bruising and cuts better; she averted her eyes back and forth between the two of them, "What the hell happened to both of your faces? Does your father know?"

Jay waves off her worry but it's Erin that answers, frustrated and instantly annoyed at the thought of what happened to her boyfriend, "No, dad doesn't know. I got this," she points to the bandage on her chin, "from someone accidentally scratching me or cutting me, I really don't know and the day of Jay's release, he was moved to general population and some of the guys at the jail thought it would be fun to use him as a human punching bag."

"That's not exactly how it went down," he interrupted, "I defended myself."

"…as much as he could defend himself against four guys."

"Four guys," Camille repeated, reaching into the back pocket of her jeans to withdraw her cell, "I can look into this. Maybe find the identities of those men and press the district attorney's office to add on an additional charge?"

"That really isn't necessary Mrs. Voight," Jay tries to argue but Camille doesn't allow it.

"We look after our own, Jay, and you're close to becoming one of us," her eyes averted from the rock star and over to her daughter before turning back to him, "Our relationship with one another may be a little rocky considering our history but my daughter loves you and you love her and you're practically family, a little like family, unofficial family and we look after our own. Am I making myself clear?"

He nods and smiles, "Yes ma'am." And for some reason, while he didn't agree with the tactic, he still appreciated it. He had someone else looking out for him and it was the First Lady of all people. It was his girlfriend's mother, a woman who walked in on him screwing her daughter, a woman who lost respect for him after he acted unprofessional, a woman married to the most powerful man in the world and she was protecting him, defending him and concerned for him.

He was humbled. He was considered family. And while it may be unofficial, he had every intention of changing that soon.


	41. Most Wonderful Time

Jay wanted to wait until Christmas to give it to her, but he couldn't. This was a pretty big present and he didn't know how she would react to it. She loves animals, at least, he thinks. He knows she doesn't hate them. But, he's not sure how she feels about owning one. He knows that she wanted one as a kid but her mother refused. So, maybe now she can have one. Hopefully she still wants one. After opening the front door and retrieving the package from Dawson, he wished him a happy holiday before nodding towards Hailey Upton and Laura Nagel and then shutting the door behind him. Her guards are off for the next few days so they'll be able to spend the holiday with their family. She told them, with as much assertion as possible, that she didn't expect to see them until the New Year or at least until after Christmas. She didn't want them to sacrifice major holidays and down time that they could spend with their family babysitting her.

"Did someone just come in?" Erin steps out of the kitchen, holding a tray of hot chocolate with whipped cream spread on top. She walked to each member of the band, each person on his staff –meaning his brother, Natalie and Burgess- and each significant other –meaning Hallie- and allowed them to grab a mug of hot chocolate.

"No, it's just me," he prayed the gift stayed quiet in the box. There was no lid at the top but the gift was so small that there would be no way for her to see inside of it until he set it down.

"Where'd you go?" She sets the tray down and helps herself to a mug.

"I had to grab something from Dawson."

Now she's growing suspicious, "Something like what?"

Nonchalantly, he shrugs, "Oh, just one of your gifts. I got you a present. He was keeping a hold of it for me until I could give it to you. Since he and his kids are flying out to Chicago later on tonight to visit his parents and sister, I was forced to get it now."

"…which means I get to open it now," she's putting two and two together.

"How do you know that? How do you know it won't just be going under the tree?"

Erin laughed at that. She chuckled at him underestimating her intelligence. Her bare feet padded against the rug on her quest to reach him, only for him to take a large step back to put more distance between the two of them. She takes a cautionary sip of her beverage to make sure she didn't scorch her tongue before setting the mug down on her kitchen island, "I know it won't be going under the tree because it would have already been under the tree. You didn't stash it there for a reason. All of the gifts we got for each other and for everyone else are under the tree. That one," she nods to the box in his arms, "was stashed at Dawson's place and now that it's here, you and I both know that you're granting me a Christmas Eve tradition of opening up one present."

Jay doesn't even know why he tried. She's too smart for her own good. He sighed. His muscles growing weak, helping him speed up the decision making process. He set the box down, knowing that the moment he backed away from it, she'll be able to see her gift. And he could only hope that she loved her gift as much as he loved getting it for her. He sat the box down and took a small step back just as she stepped forward. Fortunately the mug of hot chocolate wasn't in her hands because by the shocked expression growing on her face, she probably would have dropped it. He found himself biting his lip and holding his breath as he waited for her reaction.

It felt like hours before she dropped to her knees. It felt like days before she reached inside the box. It felt like weeks before she lifted the puppy into her arms. It felt like months before she brought him towards her chest, "You got me a dog!"

The sound of her voice helped him relax. She wasn't upset. Hindsight probably would have had him actually running the idea past her to see if adult Erin still wanted the dog that kid Erin wanted. It was too late now but by her reaction he could assume he did well. Kim, Natalie and Hallie rose to their feet and rushed over, leaving behind their warm mugs of hot chocolate in order to coo and pet and kiss the German shepherd puppy cradled in her arms. Erin pressed a lingering kiss against the forehead of the furry pup in her arms, chuckling in his fur coat when his mouth stretched open to emit a yawn.

"Did I do good?"

For the first time since she saw the dog, she tore her eyes away from him to meet those of her boyfriend, "You did great." She made herself comfortable on the floor, bending and crossing her legs so the pup could cuddle up between them. She was absolutely in love with the little fellow.

"Do you have a name picked out?" Kim found herself asking, gently patting the black and brown fur coat of the newest addition to their family.

And for some reason, everyone expected Erin to not be ready, to need some time to think, but all she really needed was to take one look at the little guy to know the perfect name, "Nico."

"Nico…" Will repeated.

"Yep," Erin nodded, "it's short and sweet."

Mouse stood, confused, "What does it mean?"

"I'm not sure," she shrugged, smirking down at the puppy whose eyes fluttered open and close; he's still so young, he's still so small, "I just liked the sound of that name and I've always had a pet name picked out and it just so happens to match up with him perfectly."

"It says here that Nico means victorious people," Hallie read from her phone. She clicked off the page before pocketing it and turning her attention back to the puppy.

Jay used Erin being distracted to disappear down the hall and venture into one of the many guest bedrooms. He went into the closet and pulled out four bags. He carried them into the living room and sat them down gently beside his girlfriend.

"What's all this?"

"It's presents for Nico," the name rolled swiftly off his tongue.

Erin smiled, pulling the sleeping pup back into her arms before using Jay's leg to pull herself back to her feet, "How'd you do all this without me knowing? I mean…you bought a whole dog and you stashed a whole bunch of things inside the house and I didn't even know."

"You've been occupied."

His words forced him to break eye contact because it was the truth. She hadn't been enjoying all that's to offer with the holiday season because she's been preoccupied with his case.

Erin lays the dog against her chest and his small head cuddles into the crook of her neck. He's already taking an immediate liking to her. Jay could understand. It seems they're all weak when it comes to Erin Voight. Jay pat the dog a few good times before opening the bag to show her all that he brought during the time her face was buried in a case file –his case file. He doesn't even know if there will be a case. There's still a possibility the charges could be dropped.

"I got a doggy bed," he pulls that out of the bag first since it's the largest. He sets it down near the couch and Erin frees her arms up by laying the exhausted puppy inside of it. This makes him wake up; he stands up and walks circles around the inside of the bed before digging his little paws into it and then finally lying down and falling back to sleep.

Jay empties the remainder of the bags. He bought a bin, which she found to be absolutely funny; he bought it to hold all of the dog's essentials inside of it. He's a neat freak. He needs things to be tidy. Jay had also purchased dog food –recommended by the couple who sold him the pup- he bought a few chew toys, treats, a food and water bowl, dog shampoo and conditioner, a collar, a leash and a brush. He bought the essentials, -all of them.

"This is amazing," she gushed; she felt like a new mother. Maybe not? A dog and a child are two different things. But, you couldn't blame her for envisioning Jay in that role. He'd make a great dad one day. She wrapped her arms around him and buried her face into the crook of his neck, "Thank you," she whispered with her lips pressed against his Adam's apple.

"You're welcome." He ran his hand up and down her side before the two of them separated.

Erin had only pulled herself out of his arms to prep the dog's meal. She knew that a growing pup was going to be hungry. She grabbed his red dish bowl with shapes of dog bones decorated around the plastic and carried it into the kitchen. Jay followed behind, holding the bag of dog food in one hand and the red, metal water bowl in the other. She found a nice corner, one that would ensure no one knocked into it when walking in and out of the kitchen.

"This is exciting…" Erin whispered; she opens the bag of dried dog food and pours a nice portion-sized amount into the doggy dish for the newest member of their family. She wanted him to wake up; she wanted to play with him with one of the many toys Jay had purchased.

Jay had filled the other dish with water from the faucet. He pressed his hand against the ice cube dispenser built into the freezer side of the refrigerator and dropped the two cubes into the water to provide an added layer of chill. He bent low to adjust both bowls, angling them enough to ensure the pup could drink and eat whenever he pleased while making sure he didn't knock into it while walking around the kitchen.

"I'm glad you like it," Jay reached for his untouched mug of hot chocolate just as Erin lifted hers back up, "I was a little nervous because a dog is a huge responsibility."

"You sound like my mother," she takes a sip of her warm beverage and upon realizing that it was a little too chilled, she takes it to the microwave and heats it up, "I am fully equipped and prepared to handle a dog. And now when you travel for work, I won't be so lonely."

Erin stood in front of the microwave, watching her mug of hot chocolate slowly spin on the plate inside. She felt his presence approach her from behind, one arm circling around her waist as the other holds the handle of his mug. She leans back, hand reaching up behind her to lightly caress her fingers against his jawline, "Hey, it could be worse." She had a knack for reading his mind, but with the worry lines developing on his forehead and the far off look in his eye, it wasn't hard for her to figure out where his thoughts seemed to travel. They've been drifting off there since his bail was paid and he was released. That look wouldn't go away, not until there was some type of resolution or a way for him to know how it'll turn out.

"It could also be better," she felt him shrug against her just as the microwave beeped. She replaced her mug of hot chocolate with his and restarted the time on the microwave. Erin had taken a small sip of her beverage, knowing that if she took a bigger one she would only scorch her tongue. She cupped her hands around the cup and turned around his embrace; his arm around her waist loosened to grant her enough room to adjust herself.

"I want you to enjoy the holidays," she whispered, glancing over his shoulder to make sure his friends were distracted before continuing where she left off, "I want you to enjoy your downtime: play in the snow, open presents, play with Nico, stuff your face with holiday cookies, dance to Christmas music and make love to me on every surface in this place," he blushes at that, "You deserve to be happy, Jay."

"Thank you for not running when things got hard."

She admonishes, "I would never."

"I'm grateful for that," he confessed, "I'm grateful for you."

"Do you trust me?"

"You're the only one I trust to do this."

"I'm glad," a small smirk tugged on her lips, "and because you trust me, I need you to not worry. I have this all under control. I'm really good at what I do."

"I know that, it's just, I know you're not a criminal defense attorney." Jay grimaced.

Her head tilted to the left and the sigh that emitted from her body was something she couldn't control. She was frustrated. Not really with him, but with people in general, more specifically people who doubted her ability to protect and represent her boyfriend. She didn't practice criminal law, but they all went to law school and it wasn't taboo or against the rules for lawyers to change practices. It didn't happen often, but it happened nonetheless. She could do this.

It may not even go to trial. That's her goal. If she could prevent it from going to trial, if she could get the charges dropped, then there would be nothing to worry about. If she couldn't and if it did go to trial, he could potentially get a fine of no more than $25,000, a sentence of no more than 10 years or a combination of the two. He wouldn't. His celebrity status would guarantee that he didn't get the maximum or the harshest punishment, but depending on the judge, there's a possibility he could be used to make an example out of, to show that money and power didn't matter in the court of law. Erin leaned forward, resting her forehead against the center of his chest, "For the night," he has to strain to hear her words muffled by his chest, "let's just try to forget. Just once because I don't want this case to drive you crazy and I don't want Landon to have any more power than he already thinks he has."

"How's this impacting your work?"

"Yeah," she sets her mug down without actually pulling away from his chest, "I've been working from home. It's just been easier for all of us that way."

"I doubt you can do that all the time. What are you going to do after the holidays when you have to show your face?"

She dragged her head up, resting her chin on his chest, "I'll cross that bridge when I get to it."

"I'm causing way more trouble for you than I intended."

"Hey," she draws back, "none of that," the microwave goes off and neither make a move to grab his hot chocolate from inside of it, "I'm with you, okay? Always; and that's never going to change. Now," she swipes her tongue along her bottom lip, "Kiss me."

Erin didn't give him a chance to get lost in his thoughts. She took the initiative. She leaned up, giving in to the magnetic pull of temptation to kiss him again. The kiss was short lived because the microwave beeped again to remind them that his beverage was inside still waiting to be grabbed. As he took precaution to grab his heated mug, she lifted her warm mug and ventured back off into the living room, choosing to sit in a seat that granted her the perfect angle to watch her new pup sleep. Nico was absolutely adorable. She brought her knees up to her chest and rested her mug in her clasped hands, sporadically taking sips as she tuned out the conversation going on around her. She only tunes back in when she hears her name called, "Huh?" She blinks out of her reverie and focuses her eyes on Natalie.

"I was just saying that you should probably expect to see more of Rixton," Nat nods her head towards the keyboard player sitting next to the doggy bed and gently patting the head of her puppy, "it seems Nico has a fan. He managed to weasel his way past the walls blocking Kenny's heart," she joked, but Rixton didn't find it funny. He simply rolled his eyes.

"I'm sure Nico appreciates the love."

Rixton smiled, eyes not meeting hers, but the smile was for her nonetheless, -though it was directed at her dog. They were taking it one day at a time. They've bonded; they're friends…maybe. She didn't know what they are to be honest. She was going to let him lead the course of their relationship and she'll fall in line where he saw fit. She was just grateful for the fact that he was no longer shutting her down, ignoring her, overlooking her and insulting her. If it was baby steps he needed, it's baby steps she's willing to give.

Jay walks over, mug of hot chocolate in one hand and he uses the other hand to tap her knee, implying for her to drop her bent legs. He carefully pulled her to her feet and sat down before pulling her onto his lap. The rest of the couch was occupied. And she didn't mind using his lap as a seat; she actually preferred it. Erin leans back and leans her head back against his shoulder just as Nico springs up with a spring in his step and an energy boost that was absent only moments ago. Nico was on all fours, running around her condo to explore his new home. He has energy to burn off; he's running circles around the couch earning holiday cheer and laughter from all who watches him.

Erin sits up and watches Rixton grab a chew toy and toss it around. Her home isn't the best place to play catch but it was big enough for a puppy his size to stretch his legs and exercise. He raced off to get the toy but he failed in bringing it back. He struggled to pick it up with his little teeth and because of this he laid in the spot it landed and chewed on it, causing the toy to squeak every few seconds with each bite and nip from his mouth. She was going to have fun with him. Erin finished up the rest of her hot chocolate before standing to take it to the kitchen, picking up the other empty mugs on her way there. This sparked Nico's attention and he ditched the toy in an effort to follow his owner, sticking close to her feet as if he knew that she was his family.

"Hi Nico buddy," she bent low to rub behind his ear. He licked her palm before rolling over onto his back, hinting for her to rub his tummy. She followed suit and scratched his belly good enough for his tongue to dangle outside of his mouth and his lower left leg to waggle.

Nico gets bored fast. She notices that when he goes from taking a few licks of water, a few bites of food, a few chews of the chew toy, a few laps around the couch and then proceeds to continue exploring. Her bedroom door is closed and he scratches against it a few times before giving up to venture off around the remainder of the condo. It's when it gets too quiet and she finishes washing the mugs that she goes in search of him, only to find him sitting in the middle of the hallway, tongue hanging out of his mouth and tail wagging side to side.

"You are just the cutest," she takes one step forward and he rises to all fours. She notices a small puddle near him and when she takes another step, he takes off to finish running and exploring the house. He peed. She can see what her mom was talking about when she said pets are a huge responsibility. Erin sighed and glanced over her shoulder to shout, "Jay, we're putting him in some sort of dog training program! He peed!"

"I'll look into it," he yelled back, patting his lap for the puppy to jump onto it, "Uh oh bud, you peed on the floor," Jay starts scratching behind the pup's ear, "you're in trouble now." He wasn't. Erin couldn't bring herself to be upset. He was just a puppy. He didn't know better.

Erin ventured further down the hallway to grab cleaning supplies from the linen closet. She would have to scrub the floor; it was on her carpet. On her way down the hallway, she checked each guest room and when she was positive that he did no damage in any of them, she closed them on her way out. She grabs a pair of yellow, rubber gloves and slides them onto her hands. She grabbed what she needed, got onto her hands and knees and began cleaning and scrubbing at the spot.

Jay continuously rubbed beneath the pup's jaw, feeling his head nuzzle against the palm of his hand. He was such an affectionate pup who would only grow up to be fiercely loyal of him and Erin and if he served to be another protector for the first daughter then Jay would be even more satisfied in his purchase. He used his other hand to brush his fingers against the fur coated on the dog's head, "Hey Burgess," she turned to look at him, "can you turn on the television?"

She was confused but she did as she was asked to do.

"It doesn't matter what you put on."

Now she was even more confused.

"Turn it up," he stopped patting the dog. Natalie lifted Nico from his lap. Burgess turned it up.

"You're acting weird," Kim asserted, tossing the remote towards him. If he needed more done then she figured he could do it himself now that his hands were empty.

"I just didn't want her to hear," he clarified, sitting up straight as the audio from the Christmas movie on the television filled the condo to mask his voice from her ears.

Will pondered confusedly, "Hear what?"

"I need all of your help."

"Help with what?" Natalie whispered, smirking as the puppy licked her face.

"…looking for a ring."

-x-

It's Christmas –it's the most wonderful time of the year. At least it is according to many holiday-themed songs playing on the radio. All she knows and all she needs to do is spend it with him –her favorite person. Despite the troubles in their lives, they shared a splendid morning together. The couple dodged calls and texts from family and friends wishing them a merry Christmas in order to sleep in late, rising from their slumber after a good night's rest a little after noon. He fixed breakfast. She played Christmas music. He made the coffee while she turned A Christmas Story on since it seems to always be on repeat during this time of year. She muted the television. Even though they weren't technically watching it, it added to the Christmas spirit just by being on in the background. Nico followed her around the condo, sticking close to her feet and nipping at the bottom of her pajama pants. The couple was in no rush to open their presents, choosing instead to leave them untouched beneath the tree while they ate together and then showered together afterwards. She got dressed in a white, turtleneck sweater dress with black boots as he put on something just as equally fashionable, a white Henley sweater with a pair of dark jeans.

Her hair was in a tight bun. Her edges were slicked down.

His hair was wild since he decided to use his fingers to tame the mess their love making had caused.

She stood in front of her bathroom mirror, bobby pin sticking out of her mouth as she put the finishing touches on her bun. Erin wanted a hairstyle that would stay out of her face. She pulled the bobby pin from her mouth and carefully clipped it into her bun, ensuring that her bun was fixed and unmovable. She grabbed another bobby pin from the case; it's better to be safe than sorry. She slipped the pin into her mouth, the edge of it sticking out as her hands went to adjust her bun, looking for a good place to slip the next one.

Nico sat by her feet like an obedient dog. She took him for a walk early this morning. She played with him after breakfast. He wanted more of her attention.

Suddenly arms slip around her waist and a mouth starts to pepper kisses against her neck.

"I swear Jay, if you mess up my bun; I'm going to kick your ass." There was humor in her voice but there was also a hint of resolve. She was kind of serious. He noted that which is why he dropped his arms from around her hips and took a large step back.

Erin's phone rings in the living room, startling the puppy and sending him on a quest to find the source of the noise. He's barking. It's light; there's no base in it whatsoever but she knows that'll develop with age. Nico takes off, feet scrambling against the floor as he zooms through Jay's legs, out of the bathroom and out of the bedroom. He cupped his elbows when he crossed his arms over his chest, "Are we bringing him?"

There was a bobby pin sticking out of her mouth but it didn't prevent her from speaking, "Of course," it was a little muffled due to the hindrance of the hair pin, "I'm not leaving him here alone so he can use the bathroom, scratch his nails into the couch or rip up my shoes."

"I thought your mother didn't like dogs."

"She doesn't," Erin shrugged, taking the bobby pin out of her mouth and applying it to her hair, "but my dad does, and my mom wouldn't be too upset, not when she sees Nico running around the yard, being the carefree pup that he is. You can't resist his adorable self. He's happy when he runs around and my place is nothing in comparison to the White House so he'll love the yard."

"I can't believe I'm actually going back there."

Erin twisted her head to look him over. She fingered the white Henley shirt that was stretched tight across his broad chest. She moved in closer and brushed her lips against his chin before squeezing past him to exit the bathroom, "Just relax babe, you worry too much."

"I have good reason to worry though, you have to admit." His hands are tucked into his pants pockets and he notices Nico walking back into the room, tongue waving out and water dripping from his chin. He had just taken a nice drink from his water dish.

"What are we talking about here?" Erin reached for a necklace that would match her earrings and provide the finishing touches to her outfit. Nico was back at her feet. Sitting, and lifting his foot to scratch behind his ear; he scratched so hard that he tipped over and fell earning a small chuckle from Jay who reached down to pat the top of his head. Erin glanced over her shoulder as her fingers unclasped the necklace, "Are you talking about my dad or your case?"

He had the tendency to switch topics without her knowing.

"…a little bit of both."

"What do I have to do to get you to relax?" Erin asked, looping her necklace around her neck, "I thought you've been arrested before, why are you so bent out of shape on this one?"

"It's nothing."

"Don't do that," she turned around to face him, "It's not nothing. What is it?"

"I just have more to lose this time around."

"Jay…" she reaches for his wrist, tugging him upwards, away from the pup and more towards her, "I…wha, what do you mean?"

"It's-"

"Don't do that. We can be vulnerable and honest with each other. We've come too far."

He releases the hold his teeth has on his bottom lip, "It's just my case is like the big elephant in the room. Even though I doubt anyone brings it up, it'll be at the back of everyone's mind, especially your family, especially your dad. We'll never work if your dad doesn't approve and I know you say you don't care about his opinion but I love you too much to make you choose, to sit back and watch your relationship with him suffer because of me. How can I possibly prove myself to him when I have this lingering over me? I can't face him. I can't look him in the eye and get-" he catches himself; he wants to get her father's blessing because it'll absolutely make her day, but Jay can't imagine a world where Hank Voight agrees to a marriage proposal.

Erin cups her boyfriend's face and leans forward, pressing her lips against his. She holds them there, unmoving; she could feel his breath against her face. She only draws back when she hears a knock at the front door and Nico takes off to investigate it. Erin smiles, "It's sweet of you to want to seek my dad's approval. You don't know how much it means to me that his opinion of you and our relationship matters to you. But," she grips his chin lightly, "and it's a huge emphasis on but, whether he likes you or not, whether he approves of our relationship or not holds no weight in my love for you. I won't let him ruin this for either one of us."

Echoes and choruses of Christmas greetings fill her home. They must have taken too long to answer the door so his band and friends walked inside. He could hear their voices growing closer but neither broke away from the other's gaze. She felt the puppy crash back into her feet and she only broke eye contact to glance down at him. He was scratching the back of his ear with the paw of his foot and he fell over once again, "He's really got to learn how to scratch without falling," she chuckled, leaning down to pick him up. She counted her blessings that he got her a dog that didn't shed. She held Nico close to her chest before leaning forward to peck a kiss to her boyfriend's lips, "Merry Christmas, babe."

He squeezed her hip, "Merry Christmas!"

The gifts under the tree remained unwrapped. They didn't want to start the process and then be interrupted. They wanted to enjoy opening presents together on their first Christmas. They had chosen to engage in the tradition of opening presents once they returned from her parents' home. It could wait, and besides Nico felt like a present enough. With the way he nuzzles his head against her, he's growing attached and pretty soon he'll be too big to be picked up so she's taking advantage of his puppy size.

"Eventually you won't need your guards because Nico here will protect you," Jay rubbed the dog's fur coat, "isn't that right, Nico?" The dog's tail waggled around, hitting Erin's stomach.

"Guys," Kim knocked on the door even though it was wide open, "are you going to grace us with your presence?" Erin sets the dog back on his feet and once again he stuck by her side. It's like he knows which one of the many people is his human.

Erin walked out of the room, with Nico and Jay following closely behind like lovesick fools. As she walked past the band's wardrobe coordinator, Kim swiped the pup up into her arms. He was definitely never going to go without love. He was the baby of the group. Erin couldn't help the smile that graced her face at the thought of that. Her dog was the baby of the group and the way he was being cared for and loved by all the members of the band had her thinking of when there will actually be a baby that joins the group. She felt for the poor kid.

It'll probably be her kid.

No one in the band expressed any interest in having children. God she hoped someone else had a kid before it was her time.

The puppy twisted and turned in Kim's arms until he was sat back on his feet. He sprang towards her, his tongue sticking out the side of his mouth and flapped with each gallop. Each bounding step appeared to be like mini jumps in his quest to get from one side of the condo to the side that she stood on. He was so clingy. She didn't really mind. For the last few days, he ditched his doggy bed to lay in the bed with her and Jay. Her boyfriend didn't mind too much, unless they were in the middle of making out or making love and the dog chose that moment to jump onto the bed. Jay called him a cock-block. She just said he had poor timing. It was reminiscent of a kid. Don't kids do things like that, the poor timing and cramping their parents' style?

It was practice.

She didn't want to think of it like that.

It wasn't really practice. A dog and a kid were two different beings holding two different responsibilities. And the fact that her mind drifted to the thoughts of a kid more times in the last few days since she got Nico than they have in her entire relationship with Jay says a lot.

Erin walked over to the Christmas tree with Nico right on her feet. She reached for each present that read the name of one of the band members and tossed it towards them.

"It's from me and Jay," she announced. After his release from jail, they had to scramble to get presents for his band. His jail-stay kind of hindered their ability to do it earlier.

Each person ripped apart their wrapping paper and Nico had a field day, running through the paper and jumping up to bite and tear into the shreds of paper they tossed. Jay, being the neat freak, grabbed what paper he could and struggled to stop Nico from tearing the large paper into smaller shards. She didn't know what to get them and Jay wasn't much help. He thought every idea she threw out was a good idea. Burgess and Mouse received the same thing, three tickets a piece and when they read the manuscript typed across the paper, their eyes widened, "Erin," both of them whispered. She didn't know how they would feel about that particular gift.

"I hope you like it," she glanced over her shoulder and relaxed when Jay nodded, "I know how involved and interested you two are when it comes to politics, so I figured…" her thought was interrupted when they both jumped to their feet to hug her.

"Thank you," Mouse asserted, pecking the side of her head.

"Hey, it's from me too," Jay chimed in, earning a hug from them when they were done with Erin.

"Technically the tickets aren't released this early but I have an in with the man in charge."

In the presidential election, there are three debates. She had gotten tickets for them to attend each debate, to sit front and center as her dad and whoever wins the primary battle it out. She was hesitant because most wouldn't consider this a gift, but knowing it's why they fell in love with her celebrity status, voted for her father and were adamant on visiting the White House, she figured it was worth a risk. And it was a risk that proved to be successful because they loved it.

Jay spearheaded the gifts for Will, Ruzek and Natalie since he knew them the best. He had gotten Natalie a matching set of jewelry, -necklace and bracelet. Ruzek had gotten a pair of drum sticks since his old ones were one beat away from breaking. These new ones were pretty expensive and should last him for a few more Christmases. For his brother, he had gotten him a watch since a knob on the one he's currently wearing had broken and fallen off. This new one was gold, real, genuine and shiny gold that sparkled against his wrist as he strapped it on. For her guards, who were still off on paid-vacation, she had managed to get them pay bonuses without their knowledge. It was approved a few days after their vacation and she knew they had received it when she woke up to text messages thanking her and wishing her a happy holiday.

Neither of them knew what to get Hallie since she's a new member of the group and they hadn't had the chance to really get to know her. Erin figured she couldn't go wrong with a fancy bottle of wine that dated back far enough to make opening it up right now appealing. Hallie was grateful. And Hallie felt bad as she put the gift she had gotten them under the tree. She didn't make as much money; she didn't have the funds like they did, but when they reassured her that it was the thought that counts, she felt a little more hopeful in her endeavors.

And last but not least, Rixton, "Erin…" he whispered, holding up an unfolded letter out of a small box. He didn't get to read it fully but he skimmed it enough to get the premise. It was a letter from Heather's husband and it was addressed to him. There was a detailed apology and an admission of guilt and Rixton knew in this moment that she was right; he had no reason to worry. She handled it like she said she would. She did it without anyone knowing. She did it even in the midst of her boyfriend's legal trouble. She was a life saver, an angel of some sort and for as long as Rixton lives, he'll forever be grateful that she kept the money in his bank account right where it belonged. He tightened his grip around the letter, "How did you do this?"

"I just made a few calls," she shrugged it off as if it was no big deal. It was a big deal to him.

"You got it in writing." It didn't take him to obtain a law degree to know that to have it in writing made it all the more official. Heather and her husband couldn't change their mind down the line because it's in writing. All he'll have to do is show the courts. If it was a simple phone call or provided through word of mouth, then her husband could change his mind whenever because it'll be his word against their word. She got it in writing.

"What's this about?" She had forgotten that majority of the band didn't know about the incident between Rixton, Heather and her husband. The topic of conversation is immediately shut down by the shaking of Erin, Kenny and Jay's head, but it only serves to spark everyone's interest. She glanced over her shoulder, thanking the heavens that it's time to leave, "We should get out of here. We don't want to be late." And everyone was in full agreement because they were going to the White House for an early dinner on Christmas. They were too excited to focus on the mystery surrounding the letter Erin had gifted him for the holiday. A mutual understanding was shared between them and when Rixton extended his hand towards her, to offer a shake on it, a truce of some sort, she didn't hesitate to connect her hand with his.

-x-

It's a tight fit in the truck but fortunately enough for them she didn't have all of her guards –only Upton and Nagel- and her parents' house wasn't too far away. Nico sits on Rixton's lap and the keyboard player finds himself entertained by the dog on the entire ride to the White House. He lets Nico lick his face and it shows in his bond with the dog that he has no intention of relinquishing him until Kim swipes him up. Her pup is being played with and passed around as if he was a Mr. Potato-head.

All Nico wants to do is look out the window. It's never rolled down but for him they make an exception. He's on Kim's lap, sticking his head out and Burgess is warned multiple times by Erin, Jay and even Rixton to hold onto him tightly to ensure he didn't fall out. Kim was nervous and she used the dog's excited and restless movements to distract her. She was about to meet the most powerful and influential man in the world. Anyone would be nervous and intimidated and freaking out and frazzled and a bunch of other adjectives that meant anxious and terrified.

All of them are excited; they've been waiting for this moment for a long time, but their excitement is mixed in with their apprehension. Things like this didn't happen every day.

Rixton's trying to play off his excitement. If anyone called him out on it, he'll deny it. For a guy who didn't vote in the last election, who is completely against politics and politicians, he surely didn't object to coming and he found himself being the first one to climb into the back of the truck. Erin smiled; she may be earning another vote for her father. For some reason, she has a feeling that he'll be voting in the next election.

Will's fingers repeatedly and consistently tap against his leg. He's actually in a tie with Ruzek for who is the most nervous. Adam keeps loosening and readjusting his tie. He's yanking at it as if it's choking him. Mouse is sweating and fanning himself with his hand even though the window is down and it's pretty cold outside. Natalie's gaze is focused in on Nico; she finds a distraction in him. And all of them are starting to second guess their decision to come; they couldn't blame Jay for the nervousness he had months ago when he first met her parents.

If Jay wasn't so nervous, he would be rubbing it in their faces right about now.

By the time the truck pulls up to the White House gates, each of them feel like they're either going to puke or pass out. Erin didn't think it was that big of a deal, but considering, Voight's her dad, he's changed her diapers, saw her at her worst and her best, she couldn't find herself to be nervous. To them, he was the president. To her, he was dad.

Rixton's palms now grow sweaty. It was no secret that he didn't like Erin and he now wondered if she ever passed that information along to her parents.

Kim wants to pace. She had to sit Nico down next to her. She wants to walk back and forth to work off some of this growing anxiety. She couldn't though.

Mouse wants to puke.

Ruzek changed his mind mid-ride. He doesn't want to do this dinner anymore.

Hallie had been quiet the entire ride. She's now taking a note from Mouse's book and is fanning herself with one hand and gripping his hand with the other.

Will is starting to inhale and exhale deep breaths.

Natalie's now fidgeting in her seat.

Erin had never seen them so nervous. For people who enjoy the public eye, who like the attention and who always appeared to be cool, calm and collected, she didn't expect this and she definitely wasn't prepared for it. She leaned forward just as the truck pulled to a stop at the front entrance, "Guys, relax. It's just dinner. He's just a man. They're just my parents."

"That's an understatement if I haven't heard one," Rixton dry chuckles.

"Oh gosh," Kim rolls up the window just as her parents and brother depart from the house; they stand at the top of the outside stairs, "there they go! They look so regal! Look at them! Look at me," she's panicking, "how do I look? Do I have anything in my teeth?" She presses her teeth together and cheeses to allow her husband to glance at her teeth.

"You're beautiful, Kim," Erin replies, unbuckling her seat belt.

It doesn't take long for her to climb out of the car with Jay following close behind. She notices that no one follows, not even her pup. She laughs at that and whistles for her dog to follow. Nico jumps out of the car and takes off, exploring the outside of the gated house. The staff keeps an eye on him without her even having to ask and Erin appreciates that. She does notice her parents' reaction; her dad seems pleased and her mother…well, her mother appears surprised.

"Erin…" Camille cautiously approaches her daughter.

"Hi mom," she leans in to peck her mother's cheek, "Merry Christmas," she turns to hug her dad and then her brother, "Hi dad. Hi Justin."

"You got a dog," Voight seems pleased; his eyes scan around for the dog, only to spot him peeing against a bush, "if you ever need to leave town, your dog can stay with us." Her mother sucks in a breath.

"Jay got him for me for Christmas," Erin informed. Voight seems surprised. It's like he didn't even notice she wasn't alone until this moment. He initiates the greeting, sticking his hand out and shaking it with her boyfriend's hand.

"What happened to jewelry?" Camille laughed, hand pressed against her chest, "You go straight to getting her a dog. No one does jewelry and clothes as gifts anymore? Hi Jay," she catches her flustered breath, "it's nice to see you again and I see your face is healing."

 _Barely_ , he thinks. Some of the bruising had gone down and the cuts had healed, but the tint of black and blue was still there. It's faded but it doesn't take much to see it.

"You're alright in my book," Justin speaks up, holding his hand out for Jay, "you beat Landon to defend my sister. You're not as bad as I once thought." Erin appreciated her brother saying that.

Jay did too even though he didn't voice it. He shook Justin's hand.

"I thought your band was coming," Camille spoke up; she found herself turning against her husband's chest when Nico made his way over and sat at Erin's feet. He was such a good puppy.

"Guys," Jay called out, waving towards the truck, "they're here." They're just too nervous to get out of the car and face you all, he thinks.

It takes a minute, and they both assume it's because they're trying to decide who should be the first to come out. It's Will who appears first. He must have lost whatever game, probably rock, paper, and scissors, to see who should step out first. The band trails out behind him, each lining up side by side before taking the stairs one at a time.

"Guys these are my parents," Erin starts the introduction, but Kim waves it off politely with a whisper under her breath that they know who they are so instead, Erin chose to introduce her parents to them versus the alternative, "Alright, mom, dad, Justin, this is Will, he's Jay's brother," they shake his hand and nod in greeting, "this is Natalie, his fiancée," they do the same with her, "this is Greg, but you can call him Mouse, he's the bass player."

"Mouse?" Her mother repeats, head tilting in curiosity.

"It's a long story," Erin replied, reciting the same response she had gotten when she questioned his name. And now that she thinks about it, she never got the long story.

Neither of her parents or her brother question it for long. They seem satisfied in her response and because of that, she continues her introductions after they shake his hand and nod in greeting, "this is Hallie; she's a nurse and she's dating Mouse," Erin introduces, smiling as her parents continue shaking their hands, "this is Adam Ruzek, he's the drummer," she grants them the time to do the same with him before continuing, "this is Kim Burgess, she's married to Adam and she is behind all the wardrobe for the band."

"Ah, so it's you who's behind all the leather," Camille is such a social butterfly. She manages to get along with everyone and she manages to swing even the hardest of hearts in her direction.

Burgess is speechless. It takes Ruzek to nudge her shoulder for her to blink and nod her head in response. Erin definitely made a good decision on her present for Christmas.

"Mom," Erin whispered, drawing her mother's attention back, "and last but not least, this is Kenny Rixton," his name draws Justin's eyebrows up and Kenny immediately knows that while she may not have discussed him with her parents, she definitely did with her brother. Each of them, minus Justin, shook his hand and gave him a small nod.

"Merry Christmas to all of you" and when Hank Voight spoke, they found themselves taking a small step back. Everything about him was intimidating, from the look in his eye, his gruff voice and his physical build. He wasn't a man to be trifled. No one was sure whether he noticed or not, but if he did, he didn't mention it. He simply turned on his heel, picked the puppy up that was seated near his daughter's feet and then walked back to the entrance of the house, "Come on, I'll give you all a brief tour of the residence while dinner is prepared."

"Hank, wait up," Camille scrambled to catch up to her husband, "I'll give the tour!"

Erin hung back with her brother as her boyfriend and his friends and family walked into the historic home. Justin had swung his arm around his sister's shoulders as they took their time walking into the house. It was pristine and decorated beautifully. The Christmas tree in the center of the entryway was tall enough to reach the ceiling; she couldn't bring herself to imagine the time, patience and strength it took to decorate the tree.

"Stranger…" he whispered, arm remaining around her shoulder as they walked in the direction her parents took the band, "I haven't seen you in a minute. You've been skipping our monthly brunches." She has, but it wasn't intentional.

"I'm sorry; I've just been busy."

"Busy making friends with Rixton?"

She should have known he would point that out.

"We called a truce."

"Good," Justin whispered, just as they caught up with the group, "I didn't want to have to beat his ass in front of mom. You know how she is when it comes to violence." Erin rolls her eyes.

The tour goes off without a hitch. Kim and Mouse are the main two who ask questions, with Hallie and Natalie chiming in every so often to comment on a fun fact provided by her mother. By the end of the tour, dinner was ready and all of their guests had arrived. Olinsky and Meredith are present and they greet Erin with hugs and kisses to the cheek.

"It feels like forever since we've seen you," Al exclaimed, hugging her tighter than the hugs he normally gives. It's probably because the last time she remembers seeing him it was his birthday months ago. She hugs Meredith next before introducing the vice president and his wife to her boyfriend and his friends. Al and Meredith appeared much more approachable than her parents.

As the couple and the band made their way through the grand dining room, they could feel the eyes of everyone in the room following them as they made their way to the dining table. Erin smiled at each of them politely, waving her hand in a kind gesture in an effort to acknowledge their presence. She could already hear the whispers, the gasps and the huffs from staff and family friends around the room. So when Jay pulled out Erin's seat, guided her into the chair and carefully pushed it closer to the table, she couldn't help but blush a little at the thought of what was traveling through everyone's mind.

Voight was watching. He was always watching.

Dinner was served soon after and it wasn't the best but it was decent enough. It was steak, potatoes and broccoli. There was a vegetarian and vegan option for the staff and friends who had chosen to opt out of the meat selection. Dessert was better; there were options of cakes, pies and cookies and Erin made a mental note to thank the chef the next time she saw him. He always went all the way out for dessert when he knew she would be in attendance.

Good conversation fills the table and she notices that the band seems to have relaxed. Laughter envelopes the room and she even notices the stress that started to seep into her father's features since he took the oath of office disappeared the second her brother told a joke. She didn't catch it. Holiday music swarmed the scene and she saw that some of the couples decided to dance in an empty area of the dining room. Her dog was eating his food in the corner of the room; he had exhausted himself from being passed around from person to person. Everyone seemed to be in the holiday spirit, including her father, which said a lot when the man had so much responsibility and an entire nation to run. He found it hard to take a day off.

Erin and her family stopped trading gifts a few years before he ran for president. When you have money and you have everything you could possibly want, gift shopping became hard so in place of that they decided to gift each other by donating money to a charity in each other's honor. This year, Erin chose a human rights charity while her mother chose a disaster relief, her dad picked an animal charity and her brother selected an organization that promotes arts and culture. It made the season of giving truly about that. It wasn't called the most wonderful time of the year for nothing.

Sometimes though, her parents did sneak her and Justin a present. Nothing big, just something simple but filled with love.

As dinner wrapped up, Erin excused herself to check on her pup. It truly felt like she had a kid. She needed to make sure he didn't use the restroom around the house, but it appears the staff was one step ahead of her. Her mother's assistant was reentering the home with the dog trailing close behind, out of breath with his tongue wagging. She wishes she had his energy and stamina. Erin stooped low and allowed the puppy to gallop towards her. She granted him a reprieve from walking and lifted him up into her arms, carrying him the rest of the way back into the dining room.

People mingled around, danced, chatted and refilled their plates with more food. Jay took advantage of everyone being distracted and approached Voight who stood near the makeshift bar, helping himself to a glass of whiskey. He saw Camille's eyes on him. He'd been avoiding her. Since the incident where she walked in on him, he'd been avoiding any conversation about it and fortunately his face was enough of a distraction for her to not bring up the incident. She watched him with her husband. She was tempted to approach. Eventually, temptation won out because she inevitably did.

"Sir," Jay cleared his throat, "I was hoping to have a moment to talk with you."

"What can I do for you Halstead?" Voight set his empty glass down just as his wife approached. He'd been quiet throughout the night. He's never been one for talking; he preferred to sit back and observe and that's what made him all the more intimidating.

Jay didn't know how to approach the topic, but he knew the look on Voight's face meant he was low on patience. He was close to walking off if Jay didn't say something. The thought of proposing has crossed his mind far too frequently.

"Spit it out boy," Voight grumbled, relaxing only when his wife laid her hand against his chest.

Halstead scans the room and finds Erin holding the puppy in her arms, rubbing his tummy. He finds peace and confidence when looking at her. It gives him the push to speak.

"I've been browsing for rings," he confessed. This catches him and Camille off guard.

Camille smiled encouragingly, "Jay…"

"Yeah, uh," he cleared his throat and straightened his posture, "I'm…I'm thinking about proposing to your daughter."

"And let me guess, you want my permission?"

"Not exactly sir, I wouldn't bother asking her to marry me if I had to get her father's permission," Jay asserted, "It was just common courtesy for me to inform you of my intentions."

Voight says nothing. He simply taps his glass and requests a refill before lifting up his cup and walking off in the direction of his daughter and her pup. Jay releases a pent up sigh. Why does he even bother? Why did he even try? The man absolutely hates his guts.

"I've seen the way you look at her when you think no one notices," he's reminded that he isn't alone when Camille speaks up; his eyes meet Erin's and hers hold question and concern. He shakes his head to reassure her that he's fine and her mother isn't bothering him.

"Yeah, I can't help it."

"Just give Hank some time," she reaches for his shoulder and squeezes it gently, "it's his little girl. There's this innate sense of protection he has for her that fathers have for their daughters. You'll understand one day," he smiled softly at that, "just give him time. You kind of sprung it on him. He'll eventually come around."

"I'm sorry for being unprofessional and avoiding you."

This time Camille smiled kindly, tilting her head to the side to take him in, "I truly do appreciate the apology. It takes a big person to apologize and maybe a concert at the White House is in your new future," she winks at him, "but I will say this, if you're a no-show again-"

He cuts her off before she can finish, "You don't have to worry about that."

"I know," she pats his cheek. That soft smile is still on her face.

"And I want to apologize for you know," he's scratching behind his ear again and she picks up on that being his tick for when he's nervous, "for what you walked in on the-"

"We don't have to talk about that," she interrupts this time, "I uh…I'm embarrassed and I'm pretty sure you are too. It's not every day you walk in on someone having sex with your daughter." He isn't just someone though. She makes a mental note. He'll eventually be more.

An awkward silence falls over them. He notices that Erin's handing her puppy off to her dad. She wasn't lying when she said he had a love for animals. Camille was still staring at him. He was looking at Erin, and when he noticed her mother open her mouth to speak, he chimed in before granting her the chance to continue, "Do you mind if we change the subject?"

"I can do you one better," she grinned, "we can pretend like it didn't happen."

"You have yourself a deal," he extends his hand and they shake on it.

And just as Erin starts to approach, Camille drops her voice, speaking quietly as her daughter grows near, "I don't know if it's any consolation Jay, but I wish you two the best. You make my daughter happy and that is more than a mother could ask for in a suitor. I know that whenever you plan to propose, it'll mean everything to her."

"You think she'll say yes?" For such a confident man, he lacks it in this moment.

"I know she'll say yes."

Erin arrives just as they reach the end of their conversation. Camille rises forward to press a kiss against his cheek, before squeezing her daughter's arm and then walking away, leaving a baffled Erin Voight behind looking between the two, "What was that about?"

"She approves of our relationship," he's amazed when he says it. He didn't know how much her approval would mean. He knew at one point he had some of it, then he lost it all and now he had it all back completely. He wouldn't take it for granted this time.

"What were you and my dad talking about?"

He didn't want to lie, but he couldn't tell her the truth.

"…you." He stuck as close to the truth as possible.

"Should I be worried?"

He thought back to Camille's reassurance. Voight will eventually come around. "No."

Jay allowed a comfortable silence to settle over them as she relaxed in his arms, the tips of her fingers toying with the collar of his shirt and his lips more than occasionally running along her hairline. This was how they spent the remainder of the night, rocking side to side in each other's arms to the beat of the Christmas music. Their legs grow tired and their feet start to ache so by the time they get home with their pup, Nico heads off to bed –fortunately, it's his bed he climbs in- while his people crawl over to the Christmas tree.

Erin can barely keep her eyes open. Both of them are seated on the floor with her sitting between his opened legs. Present after present they open until they find themselves drifting off while in the middle of unwrapping gifts. And by morning, when her guards report back to duty earlier than expected, they find the couple asleep on the floor, Jay being the big spoon to Erin's little spoon, wrapping paper scattered around them and Nico lying against Erin's leg. Atwater chuckles silently and snaps a photo with his phone before ducking back out of the condo to take post on the outside of her front door.


	42. Time Flies

It's New Year's Eve –it's that time of year that marks the last day of the year. At least it is according to the calendar that was created and designed by who knows who. All she knows and all she needs to know is it's spent with him –her favorite person. And it's spent at a club in downtown D.C. with his band and their significant others. New Years' had already begun in other countries, but here in America, they were still an hour away. In New York, on Times Square, hordes of people were crowding the streets in the cold temperature awaiting the inevitable moment that the ball would drop. Her brother was out with friends and maybe a special lady that he wasn't ready to tell their parents about, -Erin understood that decision completely. And her parents, they chose to have a quiet night indoors with Al and Meredith and bring in the new year in a calm and relaxing atmosphere since most of their days are busy and filled with stress, tension and important, life-impacting decisions.

Jay saw her standing near a high table. And unsurprisingly, he spotted her nibbling on a plate of jalapeno poppers. His girl always managed to find food. It's one of the many endless things he loves about her. Jay had just come from the bar, so in one hand he has a glass of scotch, -she didn't want anything- and in the other hand, he reached over her shoulder to grab a popper and popped it into his mouth, "Hey! I was gonna eat that!" She slapped his chest, "I asked you if you wanted anything and you said no."

"I just wanted one."

She rolled her eyes and grabbed her last one, "Yeah, well I would have ordered you your own or I would have ordered extra if I knew."

"Want me to order you more?"

"I want you to make me some."

He chuckled, -she loved his cooking, "How about I teach you how to make them?"

She extends her hand, "Deal." He shakes it.

Erin glances up at the clock; there was a large digital one hanging on the wall with red numbers lighting up the room. They still have time until the new year. They have a little less than an hour, -50 minutes. She pushed her empty plate away, waving for one of the waiters whose sole job is to walk around and collect dishes left unattended to come and take hers away. She glanced down at the untouched sauce on the plate, she preferred them without it; she glanced back up at him and smirked, "When do you think we'll make some?"

"How about when I get back from California?"

"How long will you be gone?"

"…a little over ten days."

"Your case…"

"I'll be back in time for it."

"You better, Jay, because the law is not something to be played with."

He didn't want to talk about this, not now, not when they're supposed to be having fun. Jay eased up to her and approached her from behind, "Erin," she felt him whisper her name against her skin as his lips trailed a kiss along her neck. All she could feel was one hand slide around to smooth over her stomach as he stepped closer to her, against her. His chest pressed against her back. His teeth grazed the shell of her ear as she leaned against him, pushing their bodies closer.

She could feel his smile against her neck.

It was approaching midnight; it was soon to be the start of the New Year. And there's this myth or this saying that believes how you bring in the new year predicts how your year will go. They're bringing it in together and hopefully that speaks volumes for their future. He's going to be proposing soon. It's all he can think about. He has plans to take Ruzek with him ring shopping tomorrow while Natalie and Kim keep Erin occupied.

His mind has already been turning the gears in his head on an elaborate proposal that the first daughter, his girlfriend, his Erin truly deserves and he wants it to be everything. He wants it to be unforgettable. He wants it to be romantic and heartfelt and when they tell their grandchildren about it in the future, he wants them to swoon or gush about just how sweet their grandpa is. He's thinking so far ahead; he hasn't even gotten a ring yet.

Why was that part so hard? It's just a piece of jewelry.

No, it isn't. It's something that she'll wear on her finger forever. It'll be a representation of their love, their devotion, their vows and their story. This was important.

"I can hear you thinking," she whispered, "you're thinking pretty loud."

"Did you know I hired replacements for Violet and Devon?" His question is the truth and it manages to distract her from pondering too much into his earlier thoughts.

"When did you have the time to do that?" She turned around his arms to face him.

"Okay, so technically Will and Natalie did, but the band had to give the final approval," he clarified, "they both seem pretty decent, but hey, I thought the same thing of the last two and we see how that turned out," his thumb came up to trace the outline of her bottom lip.

He wanted to kiss her. She caught on and initiated it by leaning in to briefly meet his lips.

"Quick question," he whispered the second their lips separated; he saw that she was all ears and listening, "if Violet and Devon attempted to sue for me firing them…" he didn't even have to finish because she caught on to where it was leading.

"They can try but they have no case; trust me."

And he did, he truly, honestly did trust her with every ounce of his being which says a lot because Jay doesn't completely trust just anybody. There's always some type of hesitation. The last person he trusted with all of him was his mother.

This time he initiated the kiss, leaning it to connect his lips to hers. She had been successfully distracted. He managed to do so by filling her in on information that he meant to fill her in on a while ago but with his arrest and the holidays, it all got lost in the drama. The kiss escalates the second his tongue skims along her bottom lip and she parts her lips to grant him entrance. His arms circle around her waist, drawing her in and rocking slowly to the fast beat of the music.

"Wanna dance?" It was her question that ended the kiss. It couldn't escalate too much; they were still in public and she was still the president's daughter and despite the last nine months, she still had some type of reputation to uphold.

Jay uses his pointer finger and thumb to wipe the corner of his mouth as he nodded. He gives in, more so, because he knows her, he knows why she changed the focus from their kissing to dancing. And as long as he got to have some type of intimate experience with her, he was okay.

Dancing is intimate, whether fast or slow, it felt intimate as long as it was with the right person. With his arms wrapped around her, they felt the vibrations of the beat together. He's hugging her as their bodies sway side to side. He's gently kissing, nipping and peppering smooches against her lips as their bodies maintain an instant magnetic connection. Even though she accidentally stepped on his foot once, scratch that twice, he still felt the overwhelming chemistry radiating between them. His foot ached from the heel of her shoe but that didn't stop him from spinning her around and dipping her backwards. He brought her back up just as the music changed to a familiar song, -one of his songs.

Eyes temporarily fell on him at the realization that his song was filling their ears. He lived for moments like this. He loved the attention. Now, not so much; now, he wanted to continue enjoying dancing with his favorite girl. He saw her singing along and that did something to his heart, made it beat a little faster. The song was too fast and upbeat for her to continue dancing in his arms so they momentarily separate to sway, to bump, to nod, to rock and to dance. By the time the song had ended, she had worked up a sweat. She was growing parched, "I'm going to get me something to drink." He nods and reaches over to grab his unfinished glass of scotch off the table beside him. She doesn't walk away, she remains standing as she glances around her surroundings, "Hey, have you seen my...?" he immediately withdraws her credit card from his pocket and holds it out, "Oh. Thanks, I forgot I asked you to hold it."

While out for a night on the town, she hated having to carry around a purse or a wallet. It made things so much easier when all she has to do is put her credit card in his pocket.

Jay had watched her walk away; his gaze followed her backside as she ventured over to the crowded bar. He should have just offered to get her drink for her. She was such a petite woman, even in the high heels and especially when surrounded by the partygoers all trying to wave down one of the three bartenders. He should have just offered to get her drink. She was a tough woman though; he didn't doubt that. But, he liked to make things easier for her if he could.

There was 35 minutes left until the new year, until January. Time was absolutely flying.

He watched her as she tried to squeeze through the crowd. People were pushing; he watched for that too, making sure that none of their careless shoves impacted her. Then, he would get involved. Until then, he waited because he knew his girlfriend. He knows she probably wouldn't appreciate him swooping in like some sort of hero when she has it all under control.

"I'm still trying to get used to seeing you like this," he heard his brother shout over the music.

"Seeing me like what?" Jay brought his glass of scotch up to his lips as he asked. He could feel his brother standing next to him but not once did he turn to face him. His eyes stayed on her.

"…in love," Will answered, taking the glass of scotch from his brother to take his own sip, "on your best behavior," he handed the glass back, not realizing it's now empty, "infatuated and devoted to one girl and one girl only. I never thought I would see the day."

"I want to propose soon," Jay says; he sets the empty glass down onto the nearest tray when a waiter walks past, "the sooner, the better actually because the day I put a ring on that woman's finger is the day my life finds meaning," Jay continues to watch his girlfriend who had now managed to elbow her way through the crowd without receiving an elbow or a shove in return, "I've been looking for rings. Natalie and Kim have been helping too and Camille had reached out to me via Atwater to offer her assistance in ring shopping."

This had happened two days ago actually. Atwater had pulled him to the side when they returned from the grocery store. He had showed him the text message from Camille who had insisted on helping Jay find the perfect ring for her daughter. It didn't really feel like he had an option. And he had gotten her number from Atwater and texted her back, promising that any time he came across a ring that he was considering, he would send her a picture of it.

It's hard to go ring shopping with the First Lady.

If he and his girlfriend's mother were spotted out in public together that would raise red flags. And if Erin saw tabloids, entertainment or political news or gossip sites flashing pictures of her boyfriend and her mother then she would ask him about it. She wouldn't assume. She wouldn't sneak around or go digging for answers on the internet. She would ask him. And knowing himself, he'll probably break and tell her the truth, -he couldn't really lie to her.

And if he did, she would see through it.

For that reason and that reason alone, Camille had agreed to assist behind the scenes and not in person. And since he was due in California for a few days to record their album, it would have been difficult for her to assist in person anyway. He's not leaving California without a ring. Or maybe, he's not leaving California without an idea on what type of ring to get her. That seems like a more realistic goal.

He wishes he had his mother's ring. That would have made things so much easier.

Will had snapped his fingers in front of his brother's face, hinting towards the lead singer that he had asked a question multiple times and was waiting on a response, "Have you honestly thought it all out?" he asked again.

"Yes," Jay didn't need time to consider his answer.

"And you're sure this is something you want to do?"

"Yes," he answered a bit more firmly.

"January will make it nine months since the two of you started dating. That's so soon."

And for the first time since his brother walked over, Jay had averted his gaze from his girlfriend towards him; his eyes landed on Will, a hard glare in his stare as he responded, "Since when was there a requirement on the amount of time you should be with someone before proposing? And don't give me the too soon talk when you didn't give it to dad. I don't want to hear it."

"I'm just looking out for you."

"I want to marry Erin. I plan to marry her," Jay states matter of fact; no one was going to change his mind, "When you know, you just know and I can't find any reason to wait to propose when I already know she's going to be the one for me _forever_."

"You know me and Natalie had dated for-"

Jay had cut him off after thinking its best to immediately stop that train of thought, "No offense to you and Nat, but Erin and I are far from comparison to you two. We're on our own timetable, not anyone else's. And besides, we're two completely different couples. You can't compare."

"Jay…"

"I wasn't telling you to get your blessing. I was telling you because I figured you should know."

"And you think she's going to say yes?"

"I do," he nods in the affirmative.

"You sound pretty confident."

"Camille helped with that. If she's positive her daughter will say yes then I am too."

"And what about your relationship with Erin's father?" Will just had to be the one to remind him of that. If he thought it would change his mind then he's about to be in for a rude awakening.

"What about it? The last time I checked, I wasn't proposing to him," he quipped.

Will sighed, "Jay."

"Yeah, I know he's the president, he's her dad, the most important man in the world, yada yada yada, I know, and I know he doesn't particularly like me but I can't change any of that and I'm not planning to and I have to come to terms with it."

"And you're okay with it?"

"No," Jay honestly admits, "but I have to be, I'm working on trying to be because Erin says his opinion changes nothing between us."

"That's good, I guess."

"So now do I have your blessing?"

"I thought you didn't need it," Will chuckled, earning a punch to the arm from his brother. He rubbed the ache away as he laughed, "But on a serious note, yeah, of course you have it, I've always wanted a sister and to have one like Erin makes me a pretty lucky man."

"And don't you ever forget it."

A silence fell between the pair of them and Jay directed his gaze back in the direction of the bar. His girlfriend was still submerged in the crowd. He couldn't see her anymore but he knew she was still there. If she wasn't, she would have come back over.

Jay had sensed his brother wanted to talk about something else. It's why Will's rocking back and forth on his feet. It's why the band, including Natalie, Kim and Hallie are now starting to walk over. It resembles an intervention with the way each of them look; it's like they're all in one accordance but are hesitant to speak about exactly what it is. He wasn't going to make it easy for them. He was going to put the ball in their court and allow them to lead the play.

"There was actually another reason I came over," Will admitted, but this, Jay had already figured out. And he didn't respond to it, he simply quirked his brow and waited for his brother to continue, "We were talking, the band, Nat, Kim and I," he clarified, "and we were thinking we should hire an actual criminal defense attorney for your case. It doesn't matter how much they're charging because if they can get you off, it'll be worth it."

"Thanks for the suggestion, but I already have a lawyer," Jay shrugged off their offer, tucked his hands in his front pockets and started off towards the bar.

Will stopped his brother from walking away by tugging onto his arm. He knows these last few days have been tough; they've been some of the hardest days his brother has had to go through recently. Will isn't trying to be difficult; he isn't trying to add to the stress his brother is already experiencing. It was all coming out of a place of worry; his brother was worrying, he was practically on the verge of a meltdown. It's seen in the way he clenches his hand around his brother's arm and the way he continues to hold on despite the look in Jay's eyes.

"Just hear me out…"

"I have a lawyer," he snatches his arm away, "I don't need to hire a new one."

"This isn't a dig towards Erin. You know we love her, but we think it's best if you hire someone else, someone a little less attached."

Jay crossed his arms over his chest, and questioned, "We?"

"Not me," Rixton felt the urge to speak up, "I actually disagree with them. I keep telling them that she knows what she's doing. She's definitely saved my ass. Erin's a great lawyer." And for the first time since their Thanksgiving falling out, Jay had smiled towards his friend. He appreciated the effort, but based on the look in Will's eyes, it showed that his brother wasn't backing down; his brother was staying firm behind his statement.

"A conflict of interest exists for a reason Jay," Ruzek stepped forward to add in his two cents, "I think you should reconsider. This isn't about loyalty or love or whatever is keeping you tied to having Erin as your lawyer. This is about your future. If this goes to trial and she loses-"

"She won't lose," Jay defended.

"You don't know that," Burgess retorted and for the first time in history, Jay is shocked by her stance. He assumed she would be on his side; she should be team Erin, but it seems it's just him and Rixton in the battle.

"…have a little faith," he uttered, turning away from Kim, "I do. She won't lose this case."

"Jay, I'm not just speaking as your brother," Will argued, stepping forward, almost becoming chest to chest with him, "I'm speaking as your manager and I'm telling you to hire a new lawyer. Your friends are speaking to you as your bandmates; hire someone else."

If Jay wasn't caught off guard before by the intervention, he definitely was now. He always assumed it would be Rixton being the difficult one, but surprisingly it wasn't. It's his own brother, his closest friends and Erin's supposed biggest fans. He didn't really have a choice in the matter. He needed to keep a semblance of the peace. His band and his manager carried a lot of weight and this was Jay's professional career. Erin was more important.

"You're only doing this because you're afraid of hurting her feelings," Natalie cautiously whispered, noticing the slight crack in Jay's expression. He's truly thinking about it. She sets her hand on his shoulder and turns him to face her, "Erin's a big girl. She'll understand. It's all politics really and who understands politics more than her?"

"If she loses, she'll never forgive herself," Kim added.

Mouse offered further support, "And you might hold that against her. That's the last thing you want to do. It's the last thing we want you to do."

Jay was coming from a place of emotion; his emotion was clouding his reasoning. Erin didn't practice criminal law. Yeah, she went to law school and passed the bar, but she had no experience in an actual courtroom defending a person accused of a crime. She is a civil rights attorney and that typically never ended in someone behind bars. Too much was at stake and his band was coming from a clearheaded place, not one filled with unconditional love and blind loyalty. Jay said nothing else; he just nodded his head, turned and went on a quest to find his girlfriend. This wasn't going to be easy.

"Hey Er," he approached from behind, "I think we need to talk."

"Uh oh," she whispers before thanking the bartender, grabbing her drink and turning to face him, "that doesn't sound too good," she takes a small sip of her beverage, "what about?"

"How's it looking for me?"

Based on the look on her face, she's confused. She doesn't know what he's talking about.

"…my case," he clarified.

"Not good," she answers honestly; she's always straightforward with her clients, "but that's what's to be expected considering your past record. It's not good but it doesn't mean it'll stay like that. The charges don't look like they're going to be dropped."

He sighed; he had really hoped she had better news.

Halstead grabbed her bicep and pulled her over to the side. He was careful. He was gentle. He made sure he wasn't accidentally rough; she didn't even spill her drink when she followed his lead. Erin had glanced over his shoulder and noticed his band watching. Each member was acting as if they weren't looking and Rixton even appeared to feel bad for her. Was he breaking up with her? In public? Near his band? Where they all could see? She stopped sipping her drink because she'll need it to throw in his face if he actually was planning to suddenly break up with her in the middle of a New Year's party.

"Babe," she meets his eyes; he appears to be guilty, "I need to talk to you and I don't want you to take it personal. It's honestly not you, it's me."

"Are you seriously using that line to break up with me?"

He blinked, "Wait…what?"

"You're breaking up with me," she states matter of fact.

"No, I'm not," he responds in the same tone.

Okay, so maybe he's not breaking up with her. That seems to be more realistic. He did just get her a dog; it's a family dog, -hers and Jay's puppy. They officially live together; they've shared declarations of love. They've come too far for him to just end it. She should have thought that through before jumping to conclusions but could anyone really blame her when he's acting like that…acting all guilty and suspicious.

"If you're not breaking up with me then what did you want to talk about?" She starts sipping her beverage again. She didn't need to save it anymore.

"I think it's best I find a new lawyer."

 _That_ , she was _not_ expecting. Erin finished her drink and set it off to a table near her. His band was still watching, -they knew; it was probably their idea.

"You're not breaking up with me," she whispered, allowing each word to process in her head, "you're just firing me instead." Erin finds herself digging through each crevice in her memory trying to remember a time where a client actually fired her. If it happened, she couldn't remember. Was he the first? That hurt.

It hurt her pride more than anything. He didn't believe in her. He didn't think she was good enough to work this out for him.

She's ready to go home. She glances over his shoulder once more and nods at his band before turning on her heel in preparation to walk away, to tell her guards that she's ready to go. There's 15 minutes left until the new year. She can make it home in time if she left right now. She has hot chocolate and a puppy that she could bring in the New Year with because the company she was in definitely needed upgrading.

"Please, don't leave," he whispered and for some reason she heard it over the music, "You know I would never fire you, babe." That's funny because that's what it feels like he just did.

"Do you think I'm not good enough?" Her voice is strained, it's laced with fear at the possibility of what his answer may mean, "I've got to where I am because of my ability to sway a judge and jury. I'm great at what I do. I know the law. I'm…" she starts to calm down, "I'm good enough."

"I know that," he grabs her wrists and holds them tight, "I know that. I know that, baby. You're better than good, you're one of, if not _the_ best," in this moment he despised everyone who convinced him this was a good idea, "I…you," he can't decide which pronoun he wants to use, "you said my case wasn't looking good and I don't want you to blame yourself if you lose."

"I won't lose," she's confident. She's also avoiding eye contact.

"Anything can happen," he doesn't disagree with her words, he simply just adds to them, "I don't want to take the risk and have you losing that spark, that confidence that makes you such an amazing attorney. Can you look at me please?"

She meets his eyes. It's hard to stay too mad.

"I don't want us to bring in the new year with this tension between us. I won't do it if you're not okay with it, I won't. And if I do this, I still want you by my side and I want your help choosing a lawyer. There's no one I trust more to do that than you."

There was a long stretch of silence –filled with the base from the music- but it was drowned out by the fact the couple were solely focusing on each other. She pulled her arms out of his grasp and he felt his heart deflate. It looked like she wants to slap him. It also looked like she wants to kiss him. He waited for the inevitable outcome. And to say he was shocked when she wrapped her arms around his neck and played with the hairs at the back of his neck was an understatement. She didn't apologize verbally but there was one lingering in her eyes.

"I'll text Peter to send me a list of lawyers he recommends," she whispers, lips moving near his, "he reached out a few days after your arrest."

"Peter…" the name sounded familiar, but he couldn't actually place it.

"…you met him," she chuckled softly, "Indianapolis mayor, huge flirt…" she starts to list off all of the distinguishable traits of her friend until it clicks.

"Ah, yes, Mr. Handsy…" the nickname rolled off Jay's tongue as if it was already established. He had been joking but the look on his face smoothed out and became straight, "Thanks for understanding Er, I appreciate it."

Erin smiled just as the host approached the stage, microphone in hand, "Ladies and gentlemen please grab your drink or your significant other and gather around. We have ten minutes left until we bring in the New Year. I'll be back in four minutes to prepare the countdown." He set the microphone down and walked off the stage to grab his own drink.

Jay moved towards his girl, cautiously sliding his hand into hers. She didn't reject him so that was good. Maybe she wasn't upset about it anymore? She didn't appear to be. At least not with him. When his band walked over and she cast a look towards their direction, he got the hint that she wasn't their biggest fans. She tightened her hold around his hand and pulled him towards the front of the stage, wanting to be closer to the host and the countdown clock as music continued to be played. She released his hand once they stopped, "Sorry for that…"

"Is everything okay?" He pushed a strand of her hair behind her ear.

"I like it when people are upfront with me," she admitted and he already knew this to be true, "and I didn't really appreciate your band going to you with their concerns about my ability to be a competent lawyer. If they doubted my ability then they should have come to me, not go over my head. I don't appreciate that."

"If it's any consolation, Rixton defended you."

It was a comfort in hearing that. Kenny Rixton, a man who had vowed to not like her, who had insulted her for no reason and took out his anger for his ex-girlfriend out on her was defending her. He was defending her skill, her career. They had called a truce and he was truly living up to it. She caught his eye across the room and mouthed her thanks. He smiled, lifted his glass and nodded before taking a sip of the brown liquid.

"I'm really good at what I do," she whispered and he found that his confident woman seemed to feel a little insecure when it came to proving herself, "I am good enough. I swear…"

"I know baby," his hand rubbed circles into her back. He cursed his brother and his friends for this. He didn't want to do this but they had gotten into his head.

"If you know that then why did you fire me?"

"I didn't...! uh," he whispered under his breath, "I didn't fire you."

"You fired me," she adamantly stated, leaving no room for further argument, "when person A, me," she points towards herself, "works or has a job to fulfill for person B, you," she points at him, "but then person B tells person A they don't want them doing the job and they prefer to find someone else to do it then that means person A was fired."

He fired her. And that hurt more than anything else. He really didn't like his band right now.

"Er…"

"I'm not mad at you," she proclaimed, grabbing his hand to further prove her statement, "but I just want you to know that I got this far because of my skill and knowledge. I didn't ride on my dad's coattails. I did this on my own, I swear," and it pained him to hear her try to convince him of her success; he knew this already, "I know what I'm doing. That fancy corner office, I earned it all on my own. I earned the respect from my boss, from the interns, from my secretary. You remember those days where I was barely sleeping and eating just to make sure I stayed up on my work, to make sure I picked up on all the slack and to help out when needed."

He did remember. He never wanted her to go back to those days.

"I work my ass off and your friends and family think all that working amounts to nothing."

"Hey…hey," he cups her face and forces her to look at him, "that's not what they think, that's not what I think," he presses his lips against hers, "I want you still involved with my case. I want you working alongside a trial lawyer that _you_ pick out because I trust your judgment. I want you with me every step of the way, providing legal advice whether the new lawyer likes it or not."

Erin didn't want to think about this anymore. It was over. She'll just have to get over it. He wants to hire a new lawyer and she'll find a great one for him. She's willing to put her feelings to the side and do what they all think is best. It's what a good girlfriend would do.

The host takes the stage and she glances up to see the countdown. It's almost time. It's less than four minutes. She watches his band approach and it's obvious they didn't catch the hint. She had moved away from them on purpose; it was for a reason. She tells herself to drop it but for some itching reason she couldn't. Erin turns to face her boyfriend's brother, eyeing his band, Kim and Natalie in the process, "Just for the record," she crossed her arms over her chest, "I am the one who convinced the judge to give him bail. I'm the one who posted his bail. I'm the one who was meeting with the district attorney. I'm the one who visited him, who lost hours of sleep planning how I'm going to get him out of this. And I'm the one who went out in the madness on the day he was released. I'm the one who did that. Not any of you, so for you to doubt my ability to do anything for Jay in regards to this mess is completely absurd."

She dropped it after that. She just needed to get it out.

Erin turned to face the countdown. It's less than three minutes. In her peripheral, she saw Jay wink to his brother before throwing his arm around her shoulders. She knows she probably hurt a few feelings but she didn't care, -they had hurt hers if she were to be honest. She knows Kim and Mouse probably want to pull her to the side alone to apologize and explain but she didn't want to hear it. Not now, not while she was still high on emotion.

She wanted to kiss her boyfriend. It's less than two minutes until she can give him a kiss to shock his senses. She wanted to screw her boyfriend. It'll help to release some more of the pent up energy. So once the countdown happens, she'll kiss her boyfriend and then find her guards to get them to take her home. His band can find their own ride, -they can get a taxi.

She wouldn't mind giving Rixton a lift if he wanted.

It's less than a minute left. And Erin turns to face her boyfriend during this time. She felt his hand pressed against her cheek as she hears the echoes of everyone's voices start the countdown.

"Three," they call out.

Jay runs his hand through her hair.

"Two," they whisper.

She couldn't wait any longer. His eyes were distracting; his lips even more so. She leaned in just as the crowd shouted, "One!"

Her lips met his as choruses of happy New Year filled the room. Both were in their own world, ignoring the hoots and hollers from those surrounding them. He was the only one that mattered right now and that much was made clear by the way her arms circle around his neck and his arms circle around her waist. And the only thing that made her stop and pull away was the touch of his fingertips running along her skin.

She took a big step back, "Happy New Year."

"Happy New Year," he ran his thumb along his bottom lip. It was kiss-swollen and she loved the look on him. She'll have to aim for that look in the future.

"Also," she took a step closer that she's pretty sure she'll regret, "Happy Election Year." And he laughed at that before taking her hand and tugging her off the dance floor.

"Come on, let's find your guys and get out of here." They were on the same page because she had been thinking the same thing.

It's New Years –it's the time that marks the first day of the year. At least it is according to time that was created by no one knows specifically who. All she knows and all she needs to know is it's spent with him –her favorite person. It's January, -a new month, a do-over, a beginning. It's a whole new year that'll be filled with endless memories that they haven't started making yet. She was looking forward to it. She had no idea what was in store.

-x-

Erin knew this moment would come; she knew the moment she would have to go to work and see Landon would inevitably occur. She had control of many things, but this wasn't one of them.

She walked past her secretary, nodding towards the older lady in greeting before pushing open her office door, "Erin, wait up!" She attempted to ignore him, to keep moving as if his voice was fleeting. He refused to give up though. Instead, he only increased his speed, crossing the office space in an effort to catch up to her before she closed herself off from the firm.

Suddenly her secretary moved from around her desk and crossed the small distance from her work station to Erin's door to block his entrance, "Do you have an appointment?" She already knew the answer to that. She makes Erin's schedule and she memorizes it every day. And she knows for a fact that Landon wasn't on it because she would never in a million years add him.

"Mrs. Clarke, I just," he watches Erin slam the door behind her; "I just want to talk to her."

"…well then, schedule an appointment," Erin's secretary was by definition loyal. She crossed her arms and glared at him, hinting to an obduracy that got her into trouble in her younger years.

He sighed, giving in, "Alright, fine, when is her next availability?"

Mrs. Clarke smirked, "…sometime in the next five years."

Landon grumbled under his voice and stepped around the woman. She may be old, but she's still quick and spunky. She stepped right in front of him to block his path. Mrs. Clarke played around about a lot of things, but Erin wasn't one of them. Landon stepped to the opposite side and she blocked him once again, "Mrs. Clarke, please, don't you have work to do!"

"I'm doing it," she retorted, "No one goes in there without my approval."

"And how would I get your approval?"

"You won't," Mrs. Clarke dropped her arms from the crossed position on her chest, "Now go," she nods towards the direction he came in, "shoo, skedaddle!"

This was a battle that he couldn't win. Mrs. Clarke was loved by all and he knew to defy her orders would mean he would be placed on her bad side. He couldn't afford that right now. His job is already on uneven waters. He began to step around her, giving up for the time being until he heard the office door open up behind him, "Landon." She must have changed her mind about seeing him. He turned around to face her, a beaming grin stretching across his cheeks, "Erin, hi."

Mrs. Clarke looked at her boss, "I was just getting rid of him for you." She pushed her glasses up her nose as she moved to take a protective stance near the young adult.

"You don't have to do that," Erin whispered, stepping out of her office, "at least this time you don't, but I promise you have next time."

Her secretary gave Erin a small pout before her facial expression suddenly changed the moment she turned her eyes onto Landon, "I don't like you." She left no room for argument because after her honest sentiment was said she walked back on over to her desk.

Erin honestly didn't want to talk to him. She had only come out of the office because she saw him and her secretary sharing words and the entire floor of staff pretending not to listen. She didn't want her business broadcasted everywhere. She knew the only way to stop it is to invite the bane of her existence inside and rationalize with him about how this is a horrible idea.

If she's lucky he'll drop the charges.

Jay's not going to like this, especially since he's on the other side of the country, in a studio in California recording his album that he finished and edited over the last few weeks. He's not going to like this at all, but maybe he'll understand it. If the roles were reversed, he would do whatever was in his power to protect and help her. That's all she's doing now.

"Take a seat," she pointed towards the couch as she shut the door behind them.

Landon does as he's directed, but the second his behind flops down onto the cushion, she opens her mouth to speak and he does the same. He chuckles awkwardly, "Sorry, you go first."

Erin waits, taking him in, "You're nervous," she acknowledges his mood as his leg shakes, his hands fumble in his lap and sweat starts to appear along his brow –even though it was far from hot in her office. He was nervous which meant he most likely had a favor to ask of her. She takes a seat beside him, leaving as much distance between them as the couch allowed, "You want something from me, don't you?" He silently nodded and she found herself holding back a laugh.

There's no way he's serious. He boyfriend was arrested because of him! Her boyfriend got beat up while he was incarcerated! The days leading up to her holiday were ruined because of him.

She needed to be rational about this though. It's a possibility she can get something out of it.

"And what do I get out of this favor?" She's not looking at him which isn't a bad thing because he's not looking at her either. They're both staring forward, at the floor to ceiling windows. She knows if she looks right, she'll see her secretary staring, for all Erin knows, her secretary may even be listening in through her office phone.

"I'll drop the charges on your boyfriend."

"There is always a possibility that the DA will not drop the charges. You should know as well as I do that sometimes the government continues the charge on behalf of the victim, or in this case, on behalf of you. It's worth a shot but what if it doesn't work?"

"I'll refuse to testify."

"You already gave a statement."

"I'll withdraw it or renege on my word."

"There's always a possibility that they subpoena you to testify."

"I'll refuse."

"They'll just request permission from the judge to treat you as a hostile witness," now she's growing irritated and it's obvious in how loud her voice gets and the fact that through all her efforts to avoid looking at him, she was now glaring in his direction, "Did you actually listen in school or did you just show up for the attendance points?!"

"Erin, I'm trying to do you a favor here."

And that sparks a fire within her that was burning too bright for her to remain seated. She stands and she sees her secretary staring now, requesting with her eyes if she's needed to intervene. Erin loves that woman. For such a small and fragile being, she had such an intensity within her that had people avoiding Erin's office out of fear of being confronted, embarrassed or turned away by Mrs. Clarke. Erin needed to give her another raise. At this rate, she'll be making as much money as Erin makes and it would all be deserved. Erin answers her secretary with her own calm eyes before averting them back to Landon with the tranquility in them suddenly shifting as they take him in, "Are you fucking serious right now?" He'll never get used to hearing her curse and he knows now isn't the right time to acknowledge that, "You need to drop those charges. You hit him too. You attacked him too. It was basically justified because he caught you taking advantage of his girlfriend! Anyone would do something like that!"

"Oh please," he rolled his eyes, "you are not a victim in all this."

"I'm not saying that I am. What I am saying is despite what you're trying to pull, you're not innocent and you're not a victim in any of this either."

"I have a favor to ask and if you fulfill it then I'll have the charges dropped by sunrise."

Erin refused to give in, to shake on it, pinky swear or whatever other forms of sealing the deal was out there. She didn't know what she would be agreeing to. A good lawyer knows the sentence before agreeing to a plea deal. She walked towards him and he rose to his feet; both facing each other with him hovering a few inches above her, "What is it you want?"

"You," he answered; a lilt to his voice in an effort to sound somewhat sexy, "I'll get everything dropped on one condition, Erin. You have to sleep with me."

To say she's surprised is the understatement of the century. She was frozen in place and her mouth hung open, ajar. For the first time in history, Landon has her speechless. He reached forward and risked a chance to squeeze her hip, "I'll give you a moment to think about it."

This was not how she expected the conversation to go. She thought he would have asked for her biggest cases; the ones that could possibly put his name on the map. She thought he may even request her services on all of his cases. She thought whatever he wanted was going to be work related. That's what she gets for assuming.

Suddenly she hears her office door close and she finds herself kicking off her heels and scrambling towards her desk. She and Jay agreed a while ago to stick to honesty, -no lies. And this is something that he would want to know. Ever since he left to go to California, she missed and craved him and she needed him back. Now she was thankful that he was gone all the way on the other side of the country because it meant he couldn't finish what he started with Landon.

"I was just thinking about you," he picked up on the second ring. He always picks up no matter what he's doing. She is his number one priority and that much was shown a few months ago when he answered in the middle of his concert. They put each other first.

"Hi Jay," her raspy voice comes out in a low whisper.

He sensed something was wrong, "What's up? What happened? Is it my case?" Jay should remember that if there are any updates in regards to his case, it'll come from his lawyer.

She still couldn't get over the fact that he actually fired her.

"No, no, it's nothing in regards to your case. How's recording going?" She was stalling; he silently noted that and he would allow her to do so for the moment but he had every intention of bringing the topic of conversation back onto her, "When are you supposed to be back?"

"I'll be flying back in five days," he answered, drumming his fingers along his guitar, "but the guys are all flying back to Chicago. They miss their home and their family so I told them I'll be fine if they went back. They almost didn't agree but I told them I have a hot lawyer who will watch out for me and keep them updated."

"I'm pretty sure it'll make Leo's heart if he hears you talking about him like that." Leo is the new lawyer they've hired for him. He comes highly recommended by Peter.

Jay snickered, "I was talking about you."

"…then you should have said former lawyer, you know, the one you fired."

"I'm never going to live that down, am I?"

"Just remember this when you get in trouble again and you need an actual good lawyer."

"Fortunately for the both of us, I have no intention of getting into trouble again." Now that statement made her day; it did something to her heart, something that is usually reserved for his declarations of love. His assurance that he's going to stay out of trouble was music to her ears.

A silence fell over the phone and he was ready to break it by asking for the purpose of the call and her tone of voice. Unfortunately, she beat him to it by sparking a conversation, "You never answered how recording is going. I'm actually curious to know."

"Its fine," she sensed that he shrugged his shoulders, "we had to do a few extra edits and mixes, some I like and some I had to compromise on, but the album will be great regardless. We almost finished recording and then the guys at the studio will edit the audio and put it all together. We're thinking of releasing a single once the album is complete."

"That sounds like a really good idea," she whispered, gazing out of the glass. She saw Landon making his way back and her eyes immediately darted towards her secretary. Mrs. Clarke can always read her. She knew what was needed; she needed interference and Mrs. Clarke felt like she was always born for such a role. Erin will miss her if she ever decides to retire for good.

"Erin, what's going on?" By the tone of his voice, he sounds worried. And she kind of senses that he's asked her this before while she was sending eye signals to her secretary.

"I have something to tell you." She has to remind herself, -no lies, no lies, no lies. This isn't hard. Oh, who is she kidding? She's a lawyer; she's paid to bullshit.

He senses it's bad. It's why he sets his guitar down and tells everyone to take five as he walks out of the booth. He goes to the hallway but he feels it's a little too closed and stuffy. He goes out the back door, stepping into a well-lit alley and walking to stand near a recently dumped dumpster, "Should I be worried?" He tries to make it sound as a joke but it doesn't come across that way, "I'm listening, Er. Tell me what's going on."

"I had a meeting with Landon," she confessed, shutting her eyes in an effort to build the courage to tell him, "and he wanted to make me a deal. If I agree, he'll drop the charges."

"And what's the deal?"

A beat, maybe two or three beats, of silence passes. She's trying to figure out how to word it in the best way to lessen the blow. There's no way. How do you tell your boyfriend that a guy wants to basically do a temporary trade off? Her body for his freedom. She would never go for that; Jay would absolutely never go for it. This conversation was pointless because she's not going to do it. But, she promised to be honest. No lies.

"IfIwantthechargesdroppedagainstyouIhavetosleepwithhim!" She says it all in one breath and he catches none of it. He needs her to repeat it and he whispered that in an uneven tone, "I said uh," she's trying to grapple with the words she's going to use, "Landon offered to drop the charges," she pauses and he knows that the next line will most likely kill him, "but I would have to sleep with him. He wants me for a night, or at least I'm assuming it's for a night. He didn't really specify that part but to be honest he could have but I zoned out and stopped listening," and now she's rambling. She does this when she's nervous.

Jay sucked in a breath and rested his open palm against the brick building. If he were a cartoon, steam would be blowing out of his nose and ears. She was thousands of miles away from him yet she could still sense and feel how he's feeling. He's pissed, which is understandable. She would be pissed too; she _is_ pissed. Who does Landon think she is? Does he honestly think she would agree to do something like that?

"You're not fucking sleeping with him," he says through gritted teeth, "I don't care if I'm found guilty and have to serve time in prison. I don't care if I lose millions of dollars, fans or even my reputation, I don't care about any of that, I just care about you and you're not sleeping with him, not for me, not because of this, just no Erin."

"Take a breath," she whispered, gripping the phone tighter in her hand, "I'm not going through with it. I can assure you of that."

He struggled to calm his breathing; his fist clenched against the brick wall as he growled, "What did he say when you told him that?"

"I haven't told him yet."

"What are you waiting for? Were you actually considering having sex with the guy?"

"What?" She's taken aback by the accusation, "No, you know me better than that. I was too shocked to speak and he didn't really give me a chance to answer before he left the room."

"I'm going to kick his ass."

"That's how we got into this mess in the first place," she reminded.

Erin chanced a glance out of the window and she saw Mrs. Clarke successfully sending Landon away. She breathed out a sigh of relief. She didn't want to see him right now; she was too afraid she might hit him. Erin flopped down into her desk chair and she used her feet to bring herself towards her desk. She rarely sat in the chair; it felt unused and uncomfortable, -it reminded her on why she didn't sit in it too often. Her free hand ran over her face, "Distract me," she whispered. At the rate of everything that's been going on, she wouldn't be surprised if she was developing stress or worry lines or wrinkles. Something was definitely forming in reaction to all the pressure, intensity and anxiety that the last few weeks had been causing.

"I should have known Landon was going to try to make a play," he mumbled under his breath, "I should have known he would be up to something. I mean, you practically told me in the early stages of our relationship that he can't take rejection and he acts like he doesn't understand the word no. He propositioned you, Erin." This is not what she had in mind as a distraction.

"It's extortion," her words sound haunted, "it's a felony. If I don't sleep with him then you're going to pay the price of that."

"I don't care," he added; his eyes are pressed shut, "Is there something we can do about him extorting you? Something besides me kicking his ass." He's doing a horrible job distracting her.

"It's hard to prove. Substantial evidence is needed because serious penalties are a result of a guilty verdict," Erin stared forward; her eyes blank and unemotional, "I don't have any proof."

"…but you have a father," Jay reminded and she picked up on the underlying message in his words. She has a dad who just so happens to be the president of the country. She couldn't bring him into this, but her mom, her mom is another story.

She finally blinked out of whatever reverie she found herself gazing in. She pulled the phone away from her ear and sat it down, placing it on speaker right afterwards, "I found out what happened to Charlie," she admitted as the idea of reaching out to her father became stronger and stronger. Maybe Jay was on to something by suggesting it?

"How'd you find out?"

"…Annie." It was one of the many reasons she called. And when Erin continually refused to pick up, she left a voicemail detailing it all.

"What happened?"

What is the mess that she keeps finding herself in? Erin felt her eyes grow watery, "My dad convinced Charlie that it would be in his best interest to sign a non-disclosure agreement. Charlie didn't really have much say in the matter. If he writes a book or talks to anyone about me, about my past or how he knows me, if he even hints that we know each other then they'll be monetary repercussions to pay. My dad paid him a small sum to disappear. It wasn't much but to Charlie it was enough. My dad, uh," she felt her voice catch in her throat forcing her to clear it, "my dad had threatened to use his power to make Charlie disappear if he ever resurfaces again," she was grateful that Jay wasn't here in person; she couldn't imagine the look on his face, "my dad gave him a plane ticket to some random location and told him not to miss his flight or it'll be consequences. According to Annie, Charlie had made the flight. I don't know where it went. I don't want to know either. It's best if I don't."

"And how do you feel about that?"

She shrugs. He can't see her.

"I uh, it feels weird. I just hope Charlie is gone for good because we have enough mess to deal with without my past coming up." He nodded at her words. She can't see him.

"I officially cut ties with my dad," he admits. Now he's doing a good job at distracting her, "Our relationship is unhealthy and estranged and it's honestly for the best."

"What brought this on?" This had been unexpected.

"…he uh, he got hitched."

Tanya must have decided to stay and take her chances. Jay wondered how their newlywed life is now that he made it clear to his dad that their relationship is nonexistent and he expects his own father to forget his number. As of that day, both of Jay's parents had died the day his mother did.

It was hard, but he truly felt he would get over it. He even warned Will not to bring up his former father or attempt to ease the tension between the two of them. Jay was 28, almost 29; he's had years of work trying to repair their relationship but it was obvious at this point that it will never happen. His father had a favorite. Parents shouldn't have favorites, but his dad did and his dad made it obvious. Will is the favorite. Jay had come to accept that around his early twenties. Will was still in denial about it but he had the luxury to be. He reaped the benefits of a father's love while watching from the sidelines as Jay got the downside of their father's grief.

Jay was done being his father's physical and verbal punching bag. He didn't deserve it. And his father didn't deserve him. He was done. He wishes Tanya and him nothing but the best but he won't be around to see it. Jay released a sigh when he heard Erin utter "shit" under her breath.

"And how do you feel about that?" She repeated the words he spoke moments ago.

"I'm just so angry! I can't believe he actually went through with it, you know?" he could sense her nodding on the other end, "I mean…he gave her my mother's ring; she loved that piece of jewelry so much! He's a bastard and Will's dumb for even putting up with and defending him."

It seems their lives are both filled with drama. And when he proposes, the drama in their lives will be intertwined. Every day since he arrived to California, he went browsing for rings and someone from his band or his staff would accompany him. So far, there had been no such luck. He had to find the perfect ring; he couldn't just settle for anything, especially since Tanya was probably walking around Chicago bragging about his mother's ring that's on her finger.

Jay sighs out loud, frustrated, he needs to change the conversation, "I've been diving head first into recording this album."

"I noticed." And she did because his day would start at seven in the morning and end somewhere around eight or nine at night. He had a lunch and dinner break, and unbeknownst to her, a ring break scheduled in between his long days.

"I'm ready to come back to you," he admitted. It was the truth. He thought after his tour that their days would be filled with each other, no more nights away, and no more long distance relationship. It was supposed to get easier but it seems the more time he spends with her then the harder it is to spend time without her.

"We'll see each other in a few days."

"Yeah, because we need to handle this Landon situation."

"There is no situation," she's vigorously shaking her head; "I'll handle it. I'll reach out to my mother too for her assistance, but you need to stay far away from this."

"…that's easier said than done."

"Just focus on your album and finishing it up so you can get back here. I'll pick you up from the airport when you fly back in a few days."

"Leo actually wants to pick me up to go over my case a little more." She tried not to feel a little hurt at hearing that, but it was hard. It was understandable. He was her lawyer, not her.

"…oh, okay."

He took note of the sound in her voice, "but, I'm sure he can just meet us at the condo and I can talk about it there with him," he paused, "and with you. I wasn't lying when I said I still wanted you to be involved. If there's anybody I trust to look out for my best interest, it's you Er."

"Thanks for that…"

"Yeah, well," he shrugged his shoulders and tried to play off the moment, "I love you girl."


	43. Ask Her

California was soon becoming a magical place to him. It was the first trip Erin had flown out to in order to watch his band perform amongst his fans. It was a place where they had their first biggest fight. He got to see her as the not so perfect first daughter. She got to see some of that hard armor crack, portraying a glimpse into a vulnerable side that was only reserved for her. She was special. It was a side that he allowed no one else to see and she will never, for as long as she lives, take that for granted.

This magical place, this state that soon will become a special place in his heart had become the state that held the key to his proposal, -the perfect ring. It was from a special collection. It's the only one in existence. No ring out in the world was similar to the one that had stuck out to him. It was special just like her. It was unique just like her. It was original and it's one of a kind, just like her. It's a three carat princess cut diamond ring that totaled a little over twenty grand and that was for the diamond alone. He chose the diamond especially for her and the band that will encase it and wrap around her ring finger is a platinum French-set that used diamonds to form a halo around the gemstone, -the centerpiece of the ring. With diamond accents adorning the band, the setting was created to be the perfect center stone for the princess cut diamond, -the one he had chosen. For the setting alone, it totaled up to a little over three grand. In total, the engagement ring for his special lady would equal out to a little over twenty-four thousand. And the similar wedding band would total up to a price a little lower than that.

She was worth it. He wanted to get her something bigger, something grander, but he knows Erin enough to know she wouldn't want anything too extravagant. This ring would be a compromise; he wanted to do something special and this was the result. He didn't care that his brother thought he was wasting money on a ring. Jay simply wrote it off as jealousy. Just because Will didn't have the money to buy Natalie a ring like that didn't mean Erin didn't deserve to get one. The diamond wasn't too big. He knows his girl enough to know she wouldn't appreciate a huge diamond that would cover up majority of her finger. But, at the same time, Jay wanted a diamond large enough to draw in attention towards her ring finger to let people know that she's taken, that she's off the market and that this carefully chosen ring was a representation of their love. He practically designed it. He chose what diamond, the precise size of it, the band, the cut, the shaping, the symmetry and every other little detail that he didn't realize went into creating jewelry. She was worth it.

And once majority of it was made, he sent a picture of it to Camille. She responded right away, sending back a thump up emoji. He chuckled. It was dry and relieved. A few days ago he had come so close to just giving up on the search for the perfect ring. He was close to giving Camille the reigns on this because he went to stores all over D.C. and California and he couldn't find anything that spoke to him, anything that reminded him of his girlfriend. And that was only because that ring didn't exist. He would like the band on one ring but the diamond on another. He would point out and approve of the color of one band but would want the cut of the diamond on a different one. He needed what he liked combined to create the perfect one. And he eventually found that; he found it with Rixton and Will.

It was going to take a few weeks to put the design that he envisions together along with an engraving. Jay didn't want to wait a few weeks; he wanted to give them one maybe two, but to do that, he had to offer up more money, -something he didn't have a problem with. The jeweler planned to pull all-nighters and call in a few favors from other jewelers and metalsmiths. This had to be done soon because he wanted, no he needed, to propose.

His phone vibrated in his pocket just as he handed the jeweler his credit card. He would put a down payment on the ring and pay the rest once it's finished. Jay had answered the call as it continued to ring; he balanced it between his ear and his shoulder, "Hello."

"Jay," it's Camille, "I just want to say the ring pieces are beautiful and I'm sure it's going to look magnificent once it's complete. Erin will love it." He was still a little star struck that Camille had actually called him. Any correspondence between them happened through text message.

"I hope so," he whispered, sliding his card back into his wallet the second it's returned to him.

"Mr. Halstead, is this what you want engraved on the band?" The jeweler had turned a sheet of paper around to face him; he reread the message, ensuring that everything was right and nothing was spelled wrong. He nodded; it was perfect.

"You're engraving a message," Camille whispered, overhearing the jeweler. The message is actually a line from the song he wrote for her.

"Yeah," he's scratching the back of his neck, -it's an obvious nervous tic.

"When will it be done," he can hear Camille pacing because she's wearing heels and they're clicking against the tiled floor, "I want to see it in person. Can I see it?"

"You'll see it after I propose," he says before lowering his voice, "you'll see it when Erin shows it to you." Camille can understand that.

"And when are you planning to propose to my daughter?"

"I'm not sure yet," he's scratching the back of his neck again. Why is he so nervous?!

"Don't wait forever."

"I won't," he mouths a silent thank you to the jeweler after he's handed his receipt, "I'm not sure when I'll do it, but I'm waiting for the right moment, it has to be perfect."

"There's no such thing as perfection," she reminded.

"This proposal can be close to it," he whispers into the phone; he doesn't want anyone overhearing his conversation, "I just want things to be right for your daughter. I want it to be a proposal that she'll be happy to tell others about. I just need this to go right."

"All you need is for her to say yes and I know my daughter, she will."

The jeweler hands Rixton another copy of the receipt, but this one has the date that the ring should be ready. It'll take a little over a week. Because Jay has to return to D.C. for legal proceedings, Rixton will hang back, wait for the ring to be finished and then fly back to Chicago and probably hide it in Jay's sock drawer or something. This city, this state held the location that provided him with the perfect ring for his perfect girl and for that he knew that this will not be his last time visiting. He'll add additional California cities to their next tour schedule. He loves this place almost as much as he loves Illinois and D.C.

As Jay stepped outside of the jewelry store with his brother and bandmate, he got the feeling that Will had something on his mind, a pressing issue that makes him too impatient to wait for him to wrap up his call, "We need to discuss a prenuptial agreement when your court mess is over," Jay ignores him and shrugs it off with the wave of his hand. He's not taking him serious. He's not asking Erin to sign anything. They're not even engaged yet. Will handed each of them sunglasses as Jay bit his tongue, waiting for Camille to finish talking about whatever it is she was trying to convince him of, -the proposal. He's zoning in and out of the conversation. And if it's anything that Jay learned from this exchange it's that Camille Voight is a talker.

"Mrs. Voight-"

"It's Camille," she interrupted, "I feel like I've told you that already. Call me Camille, Jay. It's only right. We're practically family now." He only wished that her husband would see that.

"I uh…I have to go. I'm being pulled away." Literally. Will has his hand around Jay's arm and is tugging him through the crowd of fans that are starting to surround them on the sidewalk.

He's glad they didn't catch him coming from the jewelry store. It's no way they wouldn't have put two and two together and posted their speculation on social media. One whiff of anything related to a proposal would have paparazzi, entertainment and political news pouncing on it like vultures and it would only be a matter of minutes before Erin found out. And then he could say goodbye to the perfect, surprise proposal.

Sometimes it was hard being a celebrity. The lack of privacy comes with the territory but after all of the years he's been a successful rock star, he finds himself still getting used to it.

"Okay, I'll let you go, but just remember what I said. Erin is going to say yes. It doesn't matter how or where you propose because the answer will be the same. It's going to be yes regardless."

He needed to hear that. He still wanted to make it special though.

"Thanks Mrs…I mean Camille."

Jay could practically feel the smile stretching across her face, "You're welcome. Call me if you need anything," was her parting words before she hung up.

The crowd only seemed to increase since he last paid attention. He was big enough that he had to push his way through. He had his head down to avoid being blinded by the camera flashes; they had a way of blinding him even with sunglasses on. Instead he's focused on his phone, noticing a message waiting for him from his favorite girl.

 _I think I have officially pissed your lawyer off, -EV_

That seems to be happening a lot. Leo and Erin have been butting heads since he hired him.

 _What happened? –JH_

Texting his girl helps him ignore the screams and shouts, the pushes and pulls and the pictures and videos being recorded of him by fans and paparazzi. He saw someone extend a magazine with him on the cover of, -it was taken and published a little over a year ago. He grabbed the marker they held out and signed his name, ending his signature with a smiley face. His hearts were reserved for one person and one person only and she wasn't here. Will remained beside him while Rixton was lost in the chaos. He adored the attention and the craze so it was no surprise to see him signing autographs, answering questions by paparazzi and fans and taking pictures with those brave enough to ask.

Maybe Jay could do the same?

As he waited for Erin to reply, he stopped to take a few pictures with fans. He had no desire to be interviewed by the paparazzi. He understood that they were only doing their jobs but he doesn't like, and if he were being honest, he doesn't respect their profession. They ask questions to get a reaction. They sometimes push and pull to get your attention. They invade your personal space because they feel that their jobs give them some sense of entitlement to do that. And Jay notices that it doesn't change, even for celebrities with children; they do the same to the kids. Kids should be off limits and as he eyes the red recording light from one of the paparazzi cameras, he pictures himself out with his future kid and imagining the extent he'll go to protect him or her from them.

He's already protective of Erin when they're around. He couldn't imagine the sense of protection he'll feel for his own baby.

His phone vibrated, _Clash of opinions, -EV_

He was just about to respond when another text comes in from her, _I was just giving him my professional opinion and he didn't appreciate it too much, -EV_

 _I'll talk to him, -JH_

 _No, you don't need to do that. I mean…I understand. I wouldn't want another lawyer telling me how to do my job. I'll just suck it up, -EV_

He smirked as he typed his reply, _look at you being the bigger person, -JH_

 _Don't get used to it, -EV_

She sends the message with a smiley face attached. Jay is geared to type up a follow-up response when a question interrupts his train of thought, "Are you talking to Erin?" He looks up to see the question was asked by a teenage girl.

"Yeah," he answered, winking at her. She swooned. He excused himself through the crowd.

 _When do you come back? I may miss you, -EV_

She does. She misses him a lot. She doesn't know how they did the long distance thing.

 _I'll be back in a few days; I actually fly back the same day I have to go to court, -JH_

During Jay's arraignment that occurred before he left D.C. to come to California, the official statement of charges was read. He's being charged with second degree assault and aggravated assault; -the sentence carries fines and jail time. The pretrial conference only reinforced the notion that the DA was not backing down on the charges. It all wasn't looking so good and Jay just wanted a plea deal to wrap it all up faster; his lawyer wanted to fight the charges. Jay doesn't though; more so because he actually did what he's being accused of. If he takes a plea deal, he admits to a lesser crime, maybe they'll drop the aggravated assault and he'll be granted a lighter sentence. He doesn't want to go to trial. His court proceedings were moving pretty fast and that was only because of his popularity and celebrity status. It's considered high profile. The DA, the judge and all parties involved wanted it wrapped up as soon as possible. Court proceedings, at least those that are less popular and more under the radar, can last for years.

The sound of his name along with Rixton's name fades as they climb into the back of a Lyft that Will had requested for them. His brother was smart though; he requested that their pick up location be a block over from the jewelry store. It's one of the main reasons why Will is their manager because he thinks of things that Jay would overlook. The second the back door shuts, Jay immediately gets down to business, "Kenny, once you pick it up, I need you to send me a picture of the final product." He's speaking in code so their driver has no idea what he's talking about, "I have to make sure it looks perfect."

"Got it," Kenny salutes.

To be honest, he didn't think their Lyft driver cared. The man was a senior citizen and probably honestly didn't even know who he was driving around. He was so focused on the GPS directions that he didn't even realize they were talking in the back.

"And reread each word on it carefully to make sure there are no misspelled words or scratches."

"Yes sir," Kenny salutes again. Will rolls his eyes.

"I'm trusting you with this. It's important to me."

"I won't fail you. You can count on me."

Jay squeezed his friend's shoulder and nodded appreciatively. Who would have thought that out of all of his friends, it would be Kenny Rixton that was the biggest help? His friend, who once disapproved of his relationship with the first daughter, was now one of the advocates for it.

 _I'm sorry about this, -EV_

That statement, that apology motivated him to call her. It caught him of guard. He never claimed to be a patient man and to respond and wait for her reply would take too long. She picked up on the second ring, "Don't you dare throw that- goddamnit," her greeting caught him off guard; she groaned in frustration, "Justin, I said I'm not having a snowball fight with you! It's not even enough snow for that!"

"Babe…"

"Sorry," he has her attention now, "I'm with Justin for our monthly brunch. We just walked into the restaurant and now my pants leg is wet because he decided to throw a snowball at me."

Jay chuckled silently. He knew she wouldn't appreciate him laughing at something she obviously did not find funny.

"Why'd you apologize?" He sobered up his laugh and got right to the point.

"Oh, because I answered and was-"

"No," he shakes his head and interrupts her kindly, "not about that. In the text."

"I just feel like it's my fault. This wouldn't be happening if it weren't for me and now you're suffering the consequences."

"This is no one's fault but mine and Landon's."

She sighed and lowered her voice, probably to make sure her brother didn't overhear, "I should have done something to help you. I mean…I'm just sitting here twiddling my thumbs. I'm not your lawyer. I'm not by your side. I'm just the girlfriend in the back. Maybe I should have taken him up on his offer? Then I actually could do something to fix this."

"Please tell me you're joking." He didn't find it funny.

"I'm joking about the last part, the first part, not so much."

"Stop that," he asserted as the car pulls in front of their hotel, "you've done more for me involving this case than anyone else and I mean that. Without you, I'll probably be a nervous wreck. You do more than you realize. Knowing that if I text or call that you'll answer in a heartbeat does more for me than you know. I love you. And thank you because I can't do this without you. I can't even imagine trying."

-x-

It's been more than a week and the day they've been anxiously awaiting for, has arrived. The last hour Jay should have been consulting with his lawyer and going over what is to be expected in the courtroom. That doesn't happen. Instead, he's on the phone with Rixton while pacing just outside the building of the courthouse. He's not talking about his case; he's not thinking about his case. Instead, he's thinking about her and the ring that is now located in his sock drawer. He doesn't know when to ask her. A part of him wants to do it now before he's given his fate, but another part of him wants to wait, just in case his fate is worse than his defense attorney suspects and he's locked away for months. He doesn't want to hold her back.

This was the day that everybody had been dreading; -it was the day that they'll find out about his sentencing. He already accepted a plea deal and it meant that he had to accept the charge and acknowledge his guilt all in an attempt to not get the harshest sentence. His assault charge could carry years in prison. He's safe from that. At minimum he'll get probation and at maximum he'll get a few months in jail. He could handle both. He could do it. He spent days in jail before, nothing close to months, but he's spent days. Oh great, -he silently notes the sarcasm in his thoughts- now he's thinking about his case.

"Jay," he hears Rixton call out his name, making him blink back into focus.

"…yeah."

"Just ask her," he exclaimed and it sounds like his own friend is even more impatient about the proposal than he is, "If you don't, then I'll ask her for you."

"I don't have the ring with me," it's an excuse. They both know it.

"I can be on the next flight to D.C. with the ring in my pocket."

"Nah, you don't need to do that," Jay whispers, spotting his lawyer and Erin talking a few steps ahead of him, "after I deal with this I plan to come back to Chicago with her and then ask."

"You're going to ask her here," he asked for clarification purposes.

"Yeah…no…maybe…" Jay doesn't know what he wants to do. All he knows is it has to be perfect. And because he requires perfection, a guy that's far from it has no idea how to plan it.

"…maybe you should propose there instead?" Rixton offered his opinion, "in the city that you two literally ran into each other in."

That's a thought. And suddenly Jay is reminded that Kenny has experienced this before; he might not be married but he's definitely proposed and his girlfriend at the time had said yes. His friend is experienced when it comes to pre-proposal jitters. Jay starts to pace and he's completely prepared to blame his nerves on his case rather than his upcoming proposal. Gosh that woman has a way of bringing him to his knees, making his heart race, his palms sweaty and his face break into a smile big and strong enough to crack his skin. He was at her complete mercy.

"That's a thought," he whispered.

"How about you tell me your thoughts?"

"Nothing is set in stone yet," Jay defended his idea before he even provided it, "It's all up in the air, but I was thinking about doing it in Chicago, maybe at my place," when he's met with silence he offers up another possibility, "or doing it in DC, maybe at Great Falls Park because that was a special place for us. I even thought about doing it at the coffee shop we bumped into each other in front of, or the venue we rented for our concert or taking her on a surprise vacation and doing it there. I don't know. I keep coming up with all of these ideas and I want to do them all because she deserves them all but I know I can't. I picture proposing to her on the Eiffel tower or scuba diving in the Florida Keys or even while on a canal ride in Amsterdam."

"All of those ideas sound great and I honestly don't think you have to go all out because she'll say yes regardless. She loves you man." And Jay needs to keep reminding himself of that, but it's difficult to do when the woman in question deserves so much more.

"I know that, I do, but…"

"Just ask her."

"I can't," his voice dropped an octave and he sounds desperate, "I want to, but what if she says no? I love her and now that I have her, I can't lose her."

"Just because she says no doesn't mean it's over and I'm not saying she's going to say no."

"I know that, but how can we continue seeing each other with that hanging over us?"

This conversation was far from over but it had to be cut short due to his lawyer and Erin approaching. The last thing he wanted was for her to overhear. He couldn't lose her and his case in the same day. Jay quickly ends his call with Rixton just as Leo and Erin approach.

"Hey babe," she wraps her arms around his shoulders, "how're you feeling?"

"As can be expected," his arms go around her waist, "What were you two talking about?"

"Your plea deal," Erin answers before his lawyer even has a chance to open his mouth; Leo didn't appear to be too pleased with her overbearing nature but by the look in Jay's eyes, his lawyer chose to keep his mouth closed, "you do know that by accepting the plea that you'll have to admit guilt in front of the judge, Landon and everyone that's in the courtroom."

"I already told him that," Leo retorted, readjusting the grip he has on the bars of his briefcase.

Erin simply rolled her eyes at that. They've been bickering since he's been hired. Both wanted to be alphas and neither wanted to be a beta. Erin picked some imaginary lint out of his hair and flicked it away, "My mom's here. She's been here for the last hour."

"So that explains the heavy police presence, the news media and the secret service scoping out the place." He chuckled just as she nods.

"Yeah, that explains it, but I will argue that the news media are here more for you than her."

"Ms. Voight," Leo cleared his throat and interrupted the moment; "I want to go over the peal deal with my client before we appear in front of the judge."

"He refuses to tell me what the deal involves," she whispers to her boyfriend before raising her voice to ensure Leo heard her next words, "I'll go but I trust you Leo! Don't make me regret it."

She stepped away without any further argument or complaint. Her eyes glanced up at the sky, noticing the darkened clouds blocking the sunlight in preparation for the rain and thunderstorm that the meteorologist predicted for today. She lays a kiss onto her boyfriend's lips, "I believe in you. Good luck baby," she says against his mouth before drawing back, "and please try to stay dry. The sky is about to open up and I didn't bring an umbrella," she pats her opened palm against his chest before heading inside of the courthouse.

Leaving Leo outside with her boyfriend was one of the hardest things she had to do. She couldn't remember the last time she sat in on a case that she wasn't involved in. She was kept in the loop as far as him deciding to accept the plea agreement, but Leo was closed lips when it came to what was involved in the bargain. She hated this. If he has to step one foot in a cell then Leo would never hear the end of it from her. Excusing herself through the crowd forming inside the courthouse, she eventually makes it to the room assigned to her boyfriend's case.

"Excuse me," Erin said as she maneuvered through the guards blocking the door. Security was tight. It was inconvenient but much needed.

Atwater and Dawson opened the doors for her and shut them just as she stepped inside. Her mother was seated in the front row behind the side the defense will be sitting on. It's crowded in the courtroom and Erin knows that most of these people are probably reporters. Ugh Leo, -Erin rolls her eyes- didn't even have the competency to request for a closed door hearing. No one needed to be here, especially the news outlets.

"Sweetie, I saved you a seat," Camille called out, patting the uncomfortable bench beside her.

Erin sits, "Thanks ma."

The media were warned not to ask them any questions in the courtroom. And they were heavily advised to not approach them under no circumstances. It didn't mean that they weren't constantly being stared at. Uh, Erin should have fought harder to continue representing Jay. I mean…what did his brother and his band even know about her and her ability to stay impartial? They weren't even here to support him. Even though Jay said he didn't mind them returning to Chicago, they shouldn't have, -he was just being polite. If this case doesn't go as planned then his band –minus Rixton- will be next on her list after Leo.

"How are you? Are you nervous?" Camille squeezed her daughter's knee to get her attention.

"Not really, I'm just ready for this to be over."

Her mother wrapped her arm around her shoulders and brought her in for a side hug. There was nothing like the comfort of a mother. Camille pressed her lips against her daughter's forehead and lingered them there long enough that a few reporters stealthily captured a few photos of the moment. Eventually she may have pulled her lips away from her daughter's head but her arm remained around her shoulders, "I see Landon has arrived."

"Ugh," Erin took a peek over her mother's shoulder to see him enter the courtroom. He took a seat on the side of the prosecution.

Landon met her eyes and immediately turned away from her piercing gaze. She's glaring and she's glaring hard. If looks could kill…

"What's going on?" Camille picked up on it. And Erin had the opportunity to blame it on the current predicament, to say she was mad at him for pressing charges against her boyfriend, but she doesn't. Instead, she tells her mother the updated truth.

"He offered to drop the charges against Jay," Erin jumps straight to the end and by the quirk of her mother's brow she immediately answers her unasked questioned, "only if I sleep with him. I was going to do something, say something, but I have no proof."

This makes Camille drop her arm. This makes her mother turn to face the man in question and shoot a glare his way that's strong enough to raise suspicious curiosity from reporters.

"If you would excuse me," Camille forced a smile as she pat her daughter against the knee.

Erin grabbed her mother's wrist, "Mom, where are you going?"

"I'm just going to have a little word with him."

"Mom…" she pleads.

Camille doesn't listen. She snatches her wrist free of her daughter's grip before walking over to the man who struggles to appear threatening. With the way Camille's heels click against the tiled floor and the way her bun sits atop her head so tight that not a hair is out of place has him intimidated. He swallows hard. He stares forward and does everything in his power to avoid eye contact with the first lady.

"Hi Landon," Camille clasps her hand pretty tight over his shoulder, digging her nails in pretty deep as she takes a seat beside him, "How are you?" She doesn't wait for an answer before she continues, "I was just talking to my daughter and she said something that really bothered me. It was about you," this makes him turn to face her as he struggles to loosen her grip on his shoulder, "She said that you propositioned her. You wanted her to sleep with you and in return you'll drop the charges against her boyfriend," Camille takes a pregnant pause to let her words sink in, "you don't know how a mother feels when she hears that. You couldn't possibly know because if you did then I trust words like that wouldn't have come from your mouth," she takes another pause and now she's turning in her seat to face him, leaning in so their faces are inches apart, "Now you listen to me you little dipshit, you stay the hell away from my daughter. You don't look at her, think about her, talk to her or approach her and if I find out that you did then you'll personally find out just how Guantanamo Bay operates. Watch your back because I swear I'm coming after you," in good humor she pinches his cheek and smiles before standing up.

She rolled her shoulders and walked back towards her daughter. She could feel his eyes on her back as she crosses the aisle and retakes her seat. Camille wraps her around back around her daughter's shoulders and leans in to press another kiss to her head just as Jay and his lawyer enter the courtroom.

"What did you say?"

"Too much to repeat," Camille replies, gently brushing the tips of her fingers against her daughter's shoulder; Erin remains curled into her mother's side, -reminiscent of when she was a kid, "but I don't want you to worry about anything. I'll take care of it."

"I don't want you to. I want to handle it on my own."

"Erin…"

"I don't know how but I'll think of something."

Camille sighs; she wanted to argue tooth and nail but she knows her daughter is just as stubborn and would argue back just as strongly; she didn't become a lawyer for nothing, "Fine, but if you need help, you don't hesitate to ask. I'm sick and tired of assholes like him."

"Camille!" Erin exclaimed in a chuckle, gently elbowing her mother in the side.

"What? I never claimed to be a saint."

What could have been a lengthy conversation was cut short when the bailiff called for silence in the courtroom and for everyone to rise as the honorable judge entered. Erin sat with bated breath as her boyfriend stood along with Leo. He pled guilty. He accepted his sentence: three months' probation –if he can stay out of trouble long enough- and mandatory online anger management classes, -once a week for six months. He still has his traveling privileges because his career requires for him to be in different locations and venues. As long as he is online for his anger management modules, then he will not violate his probation. With accepting his sentence, he held his head high and admitted guilt, turned to Landon and apologized. Erin knows that it was probably Leo's idea for him to apologize to show maturity and acceptance of his plea and behavior. Landon didn't deserve an apology.

Being a lawyer, Erin knew proper protocol in the courtroom. And rushing up to her boyfriend to throw her arms around him and lay a big kiss upon his lips definitely went against it. The judge may have banged his gavel to call for order before saying screw it and dismissing everyone; it was his last case of the evening and no one could truly blame him for wanting to get out of the hot robe and get home before rush hour traffic.

"I was thinking," he figured now is as good a time as any to bring it up, "maybe we can spend a few days in Chicago. I kind of figured we can-"

"Yes, let's go," Erin doesn't hesitate to agree. He was prepared to persuade; it seems it didn't take much convincing.

"Are you sure?"

"It's a new year. I have paid vacation. I need to get away and clear my mind and think," she spots her mother smiling at her and Landon avoiding eye contact, "and if I just so happen to think of a way to get back at Landon then great, it'll be a plus."

"…then let's get out of here," Jay whispered back as he bent to brush his lips against hers.

By the time they left the courthouse, Erin and Jay were filled with so much glee that they barely noticed the paparazzi standing outside of the courthouse.

"Ms. Voight," one of them called out, startling her attention away from her boyfriend, "Do you want to make a comment in regards to your boyfriend's sentence?" Her mother was escorted out the back exit of the courthouse. It was requested she follow, but she rarely ever took orders.

"No comment," Jay snapped back, "Leave us alone."

"Just a sentence…"

"Come on," Halstead whispered in his girlfriend's ear just as rain started to fall from the sky; they didn't make it to their car in time, "I brought you an umbrella. It's in the car."

"It's kind of pointless now," she chuckles. She appreciated him looking out for her though.

"…then how about we take our time to get to the car? Let's stop and just appreciate all of this, the thunder, the rain, the cloudy skies…everything." The water is soaking through their clothes.

"I thought you wanted to get home to Chicago?"

"…we have time."

"We're in the middle of a thunderstorm. Are you sure you want to stop and feel the rain?"

He nods like an over enthused child; the smile on his face reminiscent of a kid in a candy store. He's so happy and she can't deny him. It's the little things. Erin smiles and immediately gives in, "Okay." It was an unfair fight. With that smile, he was always going to win.

-x-

For ten months, they've been dating. The whirlwind spiral of their love creating a cosmic boom that still surprises his fans and the citizens of the country. In two months, it'll be a year. And so much has happened in what feels like a short span of time. And there's still so much to do in the days, months and years to come. It's hard to believe how fast time flies when you're happy and in love, when you're working and busy and when you're having fun and occupied. When you're not paying attention, time has a way of sneaking by you. Despite the ups and downs, their time together has been everything and more. Being February, a month that he used to despise had recently become one he didn't mind and now that his case was wrapped up, he had every intention of enjoying all that this month and his life has to offer.

This month, a little over a week from today, he'll be turning 29 and if anyone asked him this time a year ago how he thought his life would be, happily off the market would be the last thing to cross it. He's in a serious relationship, contemplating marriage and working towards actually proposing. He has the fucking ring in his sock drawer, only a few feet away from his sleeping girlfriend. His next album will be released soon. His dad is out of his life. His girlfriend's mother approves of him. His girl is happy. He has a dog, -who is around the penthouse somewhere.

For the moment, his thoughts shift as he turns around in his desk chair in search of Nico. The puppy was getting pretty big in the short time they've had him, but according to the vet, it was all signs of a growing and healthy German shepherd. Jay called out for the dog in a whisper, "Nico," he poked his head in the kitchen where his food and water dish were located, but he didn't see him. He sighed, and ran his hand through his bed hair. He didn't tame it this morning, all he did was roll out of bed, throw on clothes, brush his teeth and then leave out.

"Nico," he called out again, a little louder than a whisper.

This time Jay poked his head in the bedroom; it'll be the second place the dog would be and when he sees him curled on the bed at Erin's feet, he quietly grabs the door knob and slowly closes it. Nico's sleeping. So is Erin. And Jay didn't want to disturb them more than he probably already did by getting out of the bed and leaving the penthouse. He's back now and he has no intention of going back to sleep so he turns on the living room television, muting it so the image can light up the background as he goes back to take a seat at his desk.

It's February, -the month of love, according to Burgess since she and Adam seen to have a yearly tradition. The couple rarely goes on couple vacations, but the week of Valentine's Day, they typically find the time to go away and dedicate a week to their marriage. This year they're going to Aruba and somehow he'd gotten stuck taking them to the airport, which is why he's up at seven in the morning, sitting at his desk and struggling to pay attention to the anger management module on his laptop screen. Jay feels his eyes flutter open and close; he'd went to bed around two in the morning thanks to the half-naked woman currently sleeping in his bed and his alarm woke him up at five to get them to the airport around six in the morning. Mouse was going to pick them up at the end of the week because Jay may have agreed to do one but he refused to do both. And besides, these next few days, he has every intention of planning out his proposal.

After dropping them off a little over an hour ago, he made a few stops on his way home, one for coffee and breakfast and another for a special surprise for his best girl. Both things only had to wait for her to wake up, but for now, he was going to use the silence and the solitude in his living room to his advantage as he listened to the automated voice read the slides on the module. At the end of each module, there's going to be a quiz and he needs to get at least an 80 in order to pass to the next module. Every two weeks a module was going to be released and this was his second official one. The first, he took at the end of January with a lot of help from Erin. This one he wanted to do on his own. Even though this was going to last for six months and he only just started, he was already tired of it all. If he knew what pleading guilty would entail then he honestly probably would have fought the charge.

Jay's eyes fell towards his closed bedroom door, knowing that behind it lies the woman of his dreams, their puppy and the hidden ring. It was so close. And some part of him wanted to just get up, get the ring, slip it onto her finger and wait for her to wake up and notice it. Just ask her, he keeps telling himself over and over again. It didn't help that Camille had text him every day asking if he went through with it yet. She's waiting for the news of the proposal and every day since he bought the ring, she sent him a text hinting towards him to do it. He couldn't do it; not yet, it wasn't time. But, time shouldn't matter when you know who the one is. His phone buzzed against his desk, _I expect a proposal announcement by the time I get back, -KB_

He rolled his eyes and sent a quick text back, _expectations only lead to disappointment, -JH_

 _Just ask her, -AR_

 _Tell your wife to stop forcing you to take her side and back her up, -JH_

It's obvious that Kim probably told Ruzek to tell him in an effort to put the pressure on. They were ganging up on him. He wasn't ready…or maybe he was. It's just not the right time. It has to be perfect. She deserves nothing less than perfection. But, what if she's not ready? What if she says no? What if she needs more time? He definitely can't propose now. He needs to be sure. He knows that everyone has reassured him that there is no way she will turn down his proposal, but he can't help but feel like there's still a chance she'll turn him down.

Jay glanced down to his phone. By their lack of response, he assumed their phones were now on airplane mode and they were taking off. He turns back to his module and listens as the automated voice summarizes the ending. It goes over a few key words that were discussed before granting him the option of continuing on to the quiz. Just as he was about to click on the start button to initiate the beginning of the quiz, he heard the bedroom door open, "Good morning babe."

He gets a groan in response, causing him to look over his shoulder to see her dragging her feet into the bathroom. Her arms are circled around her lower stomach and her body is hunched over. She groans again just as she slams the bathroom door shut behind her. Yeah, now is definitely not the right time to propose. He turns back to his quiz, presses enter to start it and inhaled a sharp breath before reading the question aloud. By the tenth question, she's out of the bathroom, which says a lot considering he hadn't quickly breezed through the quiz. He still has another ten questions to go. And he's struggling.

"Need help," she approaches him from behind and looks over his shoulder to read the question on the screen. She's prepared to answer when the shake of his head cuts her off.

"Nah," he turns it down even though he desperately wants it, "I need to do this alone. And I'm actually learning a few things that I didn't know."

"That's good to hear. What are you learning?"

He didn't expect to be put on the spot, but after answering the next two questions, he was prepared to share all that he learned, at least from this module. The last one was more a beginner course to evaluate his anger meter and the unhealthy ways in which he expresses anger. Erin reached over his shoulder and swiped the bottle of ibuprofen off the top of his desk to pop two of the pills in her mouth. She drank some water from his opened water bottle to help ease the pills down her throat, before whispering an apology, "Sorry," she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, cleared her throat and added; "Menstrual cramps are the absolute worse."

Yeah, today was definitely not the right time to ask. He answered the next question then briefly turned to face her, "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Nothing anyone can do but the pain pills I just took," she took a seat on the edge of the couch before stretching out to lie down, "all I can do is wait for them to kick in." He nodded, before turning back to the laptop screen. Her cycle started this morning and even though he feels like anything involving that time of the month, he is completely clueless about, with her, he's starting to learn way more than he once knew about that topic. Like it's different for all women? The length of time isn't the same, the cramping and the signs that menstruation is about to begin is different.

"That's why you went to the bathroom groaning…"

She nods, "That's why I went to the bathroom groaning. I had to clean myself up and get a tampon. And fortunately, I didn't bleed through to the sheets. So things are looking up this period." He choked back a chuckle.

If he told his past self that this is a conversation he would eventually have with his girlfriend, he wouldn't believe it. Like many guys, he typically steered away from anything period related. He just couldn't fathom the image or talking about it, but with Erin, he found every single thing involving her to be of interest to him, -even this.

"Have you thought about how we're going to handle the Landon situation?"

She has, and she didn't want to think about it any longer. Erin released a sigh and nodded, "I did. I thought about his proposition," and when she pauses for a little too long, he turns in his chair to face her, "I want to take it up with Peter, you know, my boss," Jay nods, remembering back to their brief introduction, "I'll do it when I get back, if my mother didn't already take care of it, but for right now, for these next few days, I want to enjoy this alone time with my boyfriend."

Jay couldn't argue with that point. Not now, not when there's a ring hidden in a pile of his socks in the other room, not when he has every intention of proposing soon and not when the hours and days leading up to his proposal should be about them, not _him_. Jay turned back to the computer in order to resume his quiz. He had to remember it was a timed quiz because at the rate he's going, he'll run out of time before he has a chance to finish.

"I picked us up some breakfast," he informs, just as he answers the next question on his test. He's not giving the remaining questions his undivided attention, but this module doesn't seem too complicated. If he fails it with less than an 80, he'll just have to take it again.

"I see that's not all you got," she whispered, rolling over onto her side and curling her body into a fetal position; her arms wrapped tightly around her bended knees as she nods towards the black vase with a pink ribbon tied around it, "are those for me?"

"Of course," he answers without casting a glance her way; he's really trying to answer the last few so she can truly have all of his attention, "I don't get white lilies for anyone else." That's become their thing. White lilies have become a symbolic representation of their relationship.

"You better not," she grumbles, squeezing her eyes shut, "and thank you; they're beautiful."

"…just like you."

"If it wasn't for the soreness in my boobs and the aching, tightening and stabbing pain in my lower belly, I would be able to appreciate the flowers and your words so much more. I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he waved off her concerns, "It's not your fault."

"It makes me think of when we first started dating," she could hear him clicking against his keyboard as he answered the remaining questions. It honestly felt like her senses were heightened, "when you got some delivered to my condo. You can be the absolute sweetest."

"…only for you," he shut his lap top. She knows because she hears it.

"Did you finish?"

"Yeah…"

"You never told me what you learned." She's desperate to get her mind off the cramps. Erin remembers growing up, that her and Annie's period would sync up and her cramps would always be much worse than Annie's, -ugh, the lucky bastard.

Jay hated seeing her like this. He wanted to desperately relieve her of her pain, but there was nothing he could do. They just had to play the waiting game and patiently sit by as the medicine kicks in. It only seems like time is going by at an extremely slow rate. He grabs his water bottle, the one she drank from to swallow her pills and extends it towards her, "Here, drink this, you'll feel better." He gives her the bottle; she appreciates it. She pops one eyelid open and guzzles down the remaining ounces, setting it down on the coffee table once it's empty.

"And uh, I haven't learned any big things yet," he walks over to the couch, carefully lifts her legs up to take a seat before lowering them onto his lap, "I learned that the class really isn't meant to make me stop feeling angry, but more so to reduce the physical and aggressive outbursts that result from my anger. Um," his thoughts are buffering just as his hands start to massage her feet, "I learned that anger is a secondary emotion."

"And what does that mean?" It's like she's testing him. She smirks.

So does he, "It uh, it means that we tend to resort to anger in an effort to protect ourselves from other emotions that make us feel vulnerable. It's secondary because we always feel some type of emotion before we feel anger."

"I'm proud of you," she pushes herself to an upright position. Her meds must be kicking in because pre-medication Erin with cramps wouldn't have moved an inch. Her hand cupped his cheek and her thumb rubbed along his growing facial hair. It was all starting to grow back. It was just a short buzz, nothing that stands out from a distance, but when your hand is against it, you can definitely feel it, "You should let your beard grow."

"How long are you thinking?"

"Nothing too lengthy," she caresses the side of his jaw, "just a little dusting, nothing that dangles or will collect food that falls from your mouth." He laughed at that.

Now that it seemed she was feeling better, he lifted her legs and slid from under them in order to stand, "I picked up breakfast. I'll bring it to you if you want."

"I'm not really hungry right now."

"Alright, I'll go straighten up the kitchen then."

"I did the dishes." Erin calls out the second he turns to leave the room. She did them last night.

"You didn't have to do that, I didn't ask babe," he returns.

Erin sits up, dropping her feet to the ground, "You didn't have to ask," She stands, "I live here too and I'm doing my part. This is our home," she reaches for his hand and draws him close, "and because it's our home, the bills aren't the only thing we should share."

He should ask her. Now would be the perfect time. But, the ring is in the room. He should have the ring on him to do it. No, now isn't the perfect time. They're both in their pajamas, it's a little after eight in the morning, and they both look like a nap is destined in their near future. Now's not the time to ask her, but soon, it'll be soon. All he needs to do is finish planning everything he has in mind for the perfect day for his proposal.


	44. On Bended Knee

"I can't believe you talked me into this." To be honest, it didn't take much convincing since Erin had asked her boyfriend what he wanted to do for his 29th birthday and the impulsive; risk-taking trait inside of him went berserk. Hence why she's currently on a plane with him as they prepare to skydive, "This is the stupidest plan you've ever had," Erin is out of breath as her fear of heights starts to take over, "but of course I'm in."

Jay found himself already strapped to one of the instructors, "Are you sure?" It wasn't too late for her to back out.

She wasn't going to though. She could do this. You only turn 29 once and this was the one thing he wanted to do. She got this.

"I'm ready," she whispered just as another instructor stepped forward to clip her harness onto theirs, "I know I probably asked this like a million times," she shouted in order to be heard over the plane engine, "but how safe is this, honestly?"

Did she really want the answer to that question? Probably not. It still didn't stop the instructor from answering it.

"…since you're harnessed to an instructor, it decreases the odds of becoming a fatality," he robotically stated; he sounds like he memorized a skydiving pamphlet. She's probably not the first person to ask that, and to be honest, it only decreased her worries by a marginal percentage.

It's a tandem jump. She keeps telling herself that over and over again. It fails to decrease her worry. She'll be jumping out of a plane soon. She's attached by a harness to an instructor who is wearing a parachute big enough to carry the weight of both of them.

"Make sure the harness is attached right," Jay tells her instructor. The robotic man attached to her from behind stiffens before rolling his eyes and rechecking the harness just to appease her boyfriend. He didn't need to be told how to do his job.

Erin expected it be some type of training involved, but there was none. Any information was given to them as they boarded the plane and as the plane circled the landing zone. And they were told the night before their tandem jump to dress for the weather and wear sneakers.

"Just to go over it one more time," Erin continues to shout over the sound of the engine as Jay's instructor tightens their harness, "after we jump out, what do we do?"

"Enjoy the ride," her boyfriend's instructor was filled with a bit more enthusiasm than her own, "we take care of all of the technical parts of the actual skydive."

The light is red.

Erin found herself gripping onto her boyfriend's hand, praying that he would survive to make it to his 30th birthday next year. And hopefully she can live to see her 27th birthday, -fingers crossed.

"We're basically joined at the hip," Erin grinned up at the instructor attached to her. She attempted to break the ice or to work a smile out of him.

"Yeah, don't get any ideas buddy," Jay warned; there's a smile ghosting his lips to show that he's joking despite the under hint of caution in his tone.

Halstead is soaking in the moment. He's been unusually calm throughout this entire experience up until he and his instructor and then Erin and her instructor approach the closed doors. He takes a hold of his girlfriend's hand as they wait for the red light to turn green and signal for them to go, to jump; he kisses each finger, eliciting a raspy chuckle to part from her lips, "Thanks for doing this with me."

"Happy birthday," she tells him.

"I just want to say before we dive off a plane like crazy people that you look hot in your gear."

She laughs at that, truly she does, "I may look hot but I don't feel it. I'm terrified right now."

"Keith won't let anything happen to you," Jay makes eye contact with the instructor she is attached to, "isn't that right, Keith?"

"That's right," her robotic instructor agreed. She needs a smile. Maybe she'll feel safer if he were to smile like a normal human being?

There was a loud buzz. The assistant pilot climbs out of the cockpit. He grabbed the handle and pulled open the door set in the back of the aircraft. The moment was approaching. He yanked it open with all his strength, allowing the cold air to rush in.

She was glad she wore warm clothing.

The wind blew through the plane as they waited for the signal to jump. Erin glances back at her instructor, accidentally causing her hair to brush along his chin. They were so close. Uncomfortable too because this harness truly connects her to him. At least she knew that if something happened that he would do everything to make sure they land safely because they're connected and if she gets hurt then he does too? Misery loves company. Erin is trying to think of every possible way to settle her nerves. What if he unclips the harness –intentional or on accident- as they free fall? He wouldn't do that. He was vetted. She couldn't just put her life in someone's hands without her guards running background checks on the company and its employees.

The green light begins to flash. She'll be fine.

The assistant pilot tapped Jay and his instructor on the shoulder, silently informing them that it's their time to jump. She has no problem going last.

"I love you babe," he says to her as they shuffled to the side, loudly counted to three and then threw themselves out. She wanted to leave a bit gracefully. She doubts Keith will agree to that.

Keith maneuvers her forward and he's truly pulling more of the weight because her body is not trying to cooperate. It's not too late to back out, but it's her man's birthday and this is the one thing he truly wanted to do. Lunch afterwards with everyone else was too casual. He needed more, something to give that adrenaline junkie a run for his money.

"Are you ready?" Keith asks; still emotionless.

"No," she gulped, gripping the handle beside the open door so she didn't accidentally fall out, -she feels Keith wouldn't let that happen. They're attached. And even though he's basically a robot, he knows what he's doing, "I don't think I am."

For a moment –a long one at that- she's frozen in fear, frozen in the open doorway. And for the first time since she met the instructor harnessed to her backside, he squeezes her shoulders and gives her a smile –if it's forced, she doesn't know because all she can focus in on is the fact that he's smiling. The smile appears to be genuine enough, "Just soak it all in. That's my best advice." And he doesn't wait for her to respond, he probably doesn't care to hear it, because he took the initiative to thrust them out of the plane and be swept away by the wind like a loose leaf piece of paper.

Erin has to admit, there is absolutely nothing quite like rushing to the earth at over a 100 miles an hour after jumping –or being pushed- out of a flying plane. It's exhilarating. It's an intense adrenaline rush that words truly fail to describe. She sees Jay further below, closer to the ground than she is and she can hear his laughter, his hooting and hollering as the wind hits his face.

This was worth it.

Jay feels as free as a bird. The sensation, the feeling of free falling with nothing holding you back is like no other experience. He wants to think that he's floating but the speed in which he falls reminds him that he's not. He's weightless. From up above, Erin can see the beige parachute get deployed from the back of her boyfriend's instructor. His fall is much slower now, more relaxed as he takes in the sight of Mother Nature and the beautiful earth around him.

Erin spreads her arms; she feels like she's flying.

The cold air continues to wisp against her goggles and she truly cannot believe that she agreed to this. Only Jay Halstead can convince Erin to jump out of an airplane. Erin felt the speed of her fall accelerate faster and faster. The longer they fell, the faster it was. The trees on the ground were getting closer, were getting larger.

"Do the honors, pull the cord," her instructor directed.

She happily took on the task, but when she yanked it and nothing occurred, that fear that she felt on the plane came back stronger.

"Pull the cord," he urged. That robotic voice was coming back.

"I did," she starts to panic and gives it another tug, and then another and another before finally a sight that she was more than grateful for had appeared, -their parachute deployed into a full canopy, slowing them down to a slow, leisurely decline. When it blossomed open above her, she felt herself jerk back upward causing the harness to cut and press into her armpits and sides.

If it weren't for the goggles shielding her eyes, she would have wiped away the one tear that managed to escape, -the one tear that represented fear. She was terrified for that split second. Life truly was too short. Erin glanced down, just as their speed started to slow down due to the parachute rocking them side to side. The harness was squeezing her, "Just a heads up," Keith shouted over the sound of the wind and nature, "I'm going to loosen your harness a bit for your comfort," as he said it, he did it, "Don't worry, I won't drop you." And he actually laughed.

If she wasn't so scared right now, she would be pleased to see another smile and to actually hear a laugh. She would have put money down that his laugh would sound just as robotic as his voice; she would have been out of whatever amount she was willing to bid because it didn't. It was gentle. He was human.

She scanned the sky. She no longer saw Jay. He must have landed, -hopefully safely.

As she neared the ground, neared safety, she saw her boyfriend, waving up at her as he beamed with pure joy. She did this for him. And she would do it again if it meant she got to see that smile again. It was only the morning of his birthday and lunch was scheduled to be next before he had to temporarily disappear to head into work because in honor of his birthday, the band is releasing a single -A Fine Line- from their new album. She'll be waiting at home for him, their home, their penthouse, prepping the place for his arrival for some good ol' classic birthday sex.

She had been so consumed in her thoughts that when her feet touched the ground, it had caught her off guard. It jolted her attention. And a rush of emotions proceeded to fill her. It felt like…it resembled feelings of coming close to death, but not actually dying. She was always in safe hands –now that she was safe and on the ground, she can see that more clearly.

"Damn woman, I gotta do this," Jay ran up to her; he's unharnessed, she isn't. He grabs the back of her head and brings her in to kiss his lips. Keith is uncomfortable.

But, he's a famous rock star and she's the first daughter so he bites his tongue. Most people seem to do that when facing them in person; it's social media where those same people gain the courage to say what they feared to say in person. Keith wouldn't do that. He probably wasn't even on social media. And besides, the company signed a nondisclosure agreement, granting the couple their word that what happens here, stays here. It didn't come without a price. They guaranteed the company a few posts on social media for business, –after they get home, just in case fans decide to show up. The couple even took a picture with their instructors and as they sit in the backseat of the truck her guys' rented, Jay posted it to all platforms of social media with the caption, _29_.

He kept it short, simple and straight to the point. The caption was his age because this is how he's starting off Chapter 29 of his life.

Jay squeezed his girl's thigh just as they arrived to the restaurant. He was the birthday boy; she wanted him to go in even though she had to wait for her guards to find parking.

"I can just wait," he offered. He truly didn't mind.

"Go on in, your friends are waiting."

He shrugged as if to imply that he didn't care, but she merely pointed her finger towards the door and sent him on his way. Just because she had to wait for her guys to find a parking spot, didn't mean he needed to wait. He shut the door to the truck and stepped onto the sidewalk, earning shouts of happy birthday and praises of Jay's physical appearance for a 29 year old. Since when was that old? He shook his head and walked into the restaurant; -it's one of his favorites.

And Jay spots his friends right away, sitting at a circular table in the middle of the entire restaurant. It's closed to the public. His friends did that to make sure they can give him a birthday dinner without the constant interruption. He didn't feel like signing autographs, answering questions, prying the wandering hands of fans away or pushing through overeager fans and paparazzi just to get to the restaurant, his seat or even the bathroom. This was a birthday present all in itself. He pulled out his seat and flopped down, "Thanks guys."

"Happy birthday," was chorused around the table. He was rewarded with a few hugs and pats on the shoulder from his friends.

Kim glanced towards the door, noticing no petite brunette trailing behind him, "Where's Erin?"

"Her guards are parking; she can't go too far from them," he answers, lifting the menu to glance through it even though he'll just end up getting the same exact thing.

No other words were spoken yet he could feel their stares burning holes through the menu.

"What is it?"

"Did you propose yet?" Kim jumped at the chance to ask, "We're all impatient."

"This has nothing to do with any of you."

"Come on Jay," Ruzek spoke up; he was starting to get tired of the procrastination, "we're not getting any younger and neither is Erin. What are you waiting for?"

"…the perfect moment," Mouse answers for him, "even though that doesn't exist. Just do it now."

"I don't have the ring on me."

"It doesn't matter," Rixton waves that concern off, "it's your birthday; she can't say no on your birthday."

"Now I'm really not asking…" Jay slammed his menu down. He didn't want to talk about this. He didn't want to press it. He didn't need their help.

Natalie took a calmer approach, "Do you even have a plan for the proposal?"

"…maybe," he whispered, "but I'm not saying anything at least until the proposal is over."

"Come on Jay, you're no fun," Burgess exclaimed, leaning forward, her elbow resting on the table and her chin resting in the palm of her hand, "you didn't even let us see the ring. Only Rixton and Will did. You have to give us an insider scoop to one of them. As patient as we've been, we deserve it."

And by some happenstance, Erin had walked in, pulling her purse over her head in order to drape it over the corner of her chair, "Deserve what?" She looks to each of them for an answer.

Kim's eyes fall to Erin's empty ring finger. She smiles. And Jay shoots her a sharp, threatening look; it's one that makes Burgess retreat and excuse herself to go to the restroom.

"She was just saying they deserve to get a sneak peek into the cover for the new album," Will lies so smoothly, so easily. Jay has to remember to thank him later. Natalie simply squeezes her fiancé's thigh in a silent way to say good job.

Erin shrugs her shoulders and accepts the answer before taking her seat between Jay and Kim. Their lunch goes by faster than either one of them expected. It was filled with questions and answers regarding their skydiving adventure, talk of releasing their single A Fine Line came up since he'll be departing his girlfriend's side in the next hour to do that, and whispers between Erin and Kim about what she has planned to wrap up Jay's birthday are mentioned privately.

…when they excuse themselves to go to the restroom.

None of them actually use it though.

But, Erin takes this time, the time she's sitting on the plush couch in the fancy restroom to select her favorite three photos of her boyfriend to post with a caption that she saved in the notes app of her phone. It honestly took her all last night and a little of this morning to come up with it. It was the first birthday she was spending with him and at the rate their relationship was going, she didn't think it would be the last. Her final step before posting was tagging him in the picture and after giving her caption a thorough reread, she pressed submit, sending the post into a world where it'll exist forever.

By the time they make it back to the table, their drinks had arrived and they put in their lunch orders. His yearly birthday lunch was tradition. It has been happening since before Jay became rich and famous. It started with their mother, it went on hiatus for a few years since her death and it was picked back up when his band, his friends, heard about the buried tradition from Will.

Jay finds himself ordering the same thing every year and even though he tells his friends not to, they order a cake and the staff at the restaurant brings it out, with the candles lit, as they sing a loud remixed rendition of happy birthday. He appreciated it.

"My parents and brother wished you a happy birthday," she tells her boyfriend. And Jay finds that a little hard to believe, -maybe Justin and Camille, yes, but Voight, hell no. She sensed the skepticism in his expression and to back up her statement, she extends her cell, "See."

It's a tweet on the president's official account. It's simple and straight to the point – _Happy birthday to jayhalstead! Hope it's a good one_ \- but it was an acknowledgement. Her mother and brother had made their own posts to social media, tagging him in their messages.

"You got her pops approval," Rixton slapped his hand against the back of Jay's shoulder.

"Yeah, I wouldn't go that far. It's just an acknowledgement."

"…from the president of the United fucking States," Burgess exclaimed; this was a huge deal to her. Oh my, she was jealous, "You should retweet it with a comment."

"Guys, the people who are in charge of his social media probably put that."

"And even if they did," Erin jumped in to defend the post, "they can't put anything without my father's approval. He's tied to that message in some way, shape or form. Baby steps babe."

Without further prompting or argument, he withdrew his phone and quickly brought up the app. He quickly retweets the message and adds a comment, - _Thank you sir._ He posts it before he has second thoughts. To cushion the appeal, to try to cover his tracks and make it seem like he didn't just go to social media to respond to –what he hopes is- his future father-in-law, he retweets, likes or does a combination of both to other birthday messages sent to him from other celebrities and fans. The birthday posts are endless –and that's _just_ from one source of social media- and it's completely unrealistic for him to respond, to like and to retweet every single shout out. So, he makes one blanket statement on Twitter, thanking everyone for taking a moment out of their day to wish him a happy birthday; he sends his love, his gratitude and his appreciation. He signs it off with his initials before pocketing his phone.

Erin leans over and kisses his cheek. She's proud of him. He gathers that much just from the look in her eyes.

Lunch proceeds and just as soon as it had started, it had ended, which only meant one thing, -it's time to go to the studio, to do a play through of A Fine Line, to edit it and make any final tweaks before releasing it onto all major forms of programs that are used to purchase music.

"I would invite you but you'll just be bored," he says as she's handed the leather binder with their check inside. She's paying for her and Jay, -he's the birthday boy after all. She didn't want him to have to pull out his wallet at all today.

"It's alright," she slides her credit card into the binder and the waiter comes to collect hers as well as the binders from everyone else, "I think I'll just head home and clean up a bit as I wait for your arrival."

"I have a housekeeper for a reason. You don't-"

"…if that statement ends with 'need to do that' then I'm going to save you your breath," the look in her eye told him that she shouldn't be interrupted, "It's our place. It's your birthday. You get a day off and to be honest, your housekeeper isn't that great at cleaning," God, she hoped she didn't get the housekeeper fired, "and you did the laundry, it's only fair that I put it away."

"That's going to take like ten minutes, what will you do until I get back?"

She rolled her eyes –she didn't need him to entertain her, "Despite what you may think, I do still have to work," her comment was lighthearted enough to let him know there was no malice in her statement, "I've been procrastinating enough so you won't be the only one that's working."

When the band is brought their receipts, they each sign their names and provide the wait staff with a nice sizeable tip. Considering how they closed down the restaurant and waited on their party with a smile on their face, they deserved it, -truly. And after a few photos –requested by a few fans that were employees at the restaurant- the moment started to wind down. Erin wanted to get a head start on working and cleaning so she was the first person to rise up, "I should get out of here," she leans down to press a kiss to her boyfriend's lips, "I'll see you later and we can celebrate your birthday some more. It's not every day you turn 29."

"…maybe we can all go out tonight?" Mouse threw out the option, "celebrate Jay's birth and maybe something else." He was kicked under the table. He didn't know by who.

Erin appeared to be the only one confused, "What else would there be to celebrate?"

"The release of District 21's new single," Will saved the day once again. Jay really needed to thank his brother, maybe after he punched Mouse. No, anger management classes, he's in them for a reason, he silently reminds himself. Jay closes his eyes, inhales and holds his breath for three seconds before exhaling. It's a technique he learned.

"I'll see you later babe," Erin leaned down to kiss him one more time, "Happy birthday," she whispered into his ear before waving at his friends and leaving out with her guards.

Jay kicked Mouse in the shin. Rixton kicked him the last time.

"Ouch," Mouse reached down to rub his kneecap, "what was that for?"

"You have a big mouth."

"It's not like she knows!" Mouse defended.

"She's a lawyer, she asks questions and she's curious. A curious Erin won't let it rest!"

"…maybe it'll speed up the process then because you really need to propose."

Halstead rolled his eyes at Kim's added statement. He neither asked nor needed her opinion on his timeline for a proposal, yet she gave it to him every time.

"We should go over the next hour or two," Will chimed in, speaking up and changing the conversation and Jay thinks that his brother doesn't need to give him a gift, his behavior for today is a present in itself, "we're really going to have to focus on this track since it was a last minute decision. Once it's released, it's released."

"We'll divide the time between the album and proposal talk," Natalie amended.

Jay couldn't find it in himself to complain. It'll only fall on deaf ears. Instead he groaned and pulled out his cell to distract himself from the proposal suggestions being tossed his way. He didn't need help. When the time is right, he'll know it. At least he hopes. Shouldn't it work out that way? He's never thought of doing something like this before. He never even thought a proposal and marriage would be in his future.

It's amazing how much can change in a year.

As he looks at his skydiving post –the picture of him, Erin and their instructors- he sees that majority of the comments were wishes for him to have a happy birthday. He liked a couple of them and replied thank you to the people that he met or personally knew –majority of them being other celebrities. He clicked out of that post, only to see drawings, video slideshows with music attached and creative collages of him with heartfelt captions underneath from fans sending their love and wishing him a happy birthday. It was posts from all over the world –Sweden, England, Canada, Japan, Denmark, Mexico- just to name a few. The love was international. This was a new feeling for him that was taking over; he felt humbled.

For a brief second, he looked away from his phone to tune back in to the topic. At this point, they're all standing, pushing in their chairs while discussing the best ways for Jay to propose. Kim had suggested a hot air balloon ride, Natalie thought it would be romantic if he did it on national television and Mouse figured it would be nice if he just did it and got it over with, -no planning involved whatsoever. He tunes back out of the conversation to focus back on his phone.

Jay finds himself liking as many of the creative work from his fans as possible. Someone had even drawn a picture of him and Erin; he couldn't remember when it was taken but based on the camera angle, it was obvious that the cameraman was probably paparazzi. This was how majority of the world saw them. He thanked them for this post. He was way more active on social media than he's ever been and his fans were the direct cause. There was no way he couldn't respond to some of the amazing, out of this world, dedications they made in honor of his birth. And while he knew each member of his band had fan pages created about them –himself included- it was nice to see pages dedicated to his relationship with Erin. It was like an online photo album because the paparazzi –who Jay has a bad history with- had captured some truly special moments. He couldn't believe he was doing this, but he found himself actually following one of the pages.

Just as he starts to walk out of the restaurant, he goes to his notifications. And the one sitting at the top, waiting for his attention, comes from his girl. Immediately he clicks on it just as he slides into the passenger seat of Rixton's vehicle. The first photo was of the two of them decked out in their skydiving gear before they boarded the plane, he swiped and saw that the second picture was of the two of them at Great Falls Park around the start of their relationship and the third picture was a picture of them with Nico a few days after he gifted the pup to her. The comment section had over ten thousand replies and he couldn't bring himself to read them because her caption has him breathless and distracted.

 _You fill my world with laughter, with music, with joy and happiness. You are my other half, the piece to the puzzle that I've been missing and on this day, 29 years ago, the match to my jagged edge was born. Each and every day, I find myself falling in love with you more and more. There is so much good in you that I find myself honored to be loved by you. You're protective. You're compassionate. You're talented. You have a beautiful voice. You're so fucking hot (I'm sure many of your fans can agree on that one). And I can appreciatively and humbly say that you're all mine. You author my fondest and most valuable memories. I hope you have the best day because it only just started. Happy birthday to my favorite person in the world, happy birthday to my cuddle buddy, happy birthday to the life of every party and happy birthday to the man who signed a permanent lease on my heart. Happy birthday, baby! I love you endlessly! –your girlfriend, EV_

She truly has a way with words.

That instinctual drive within him took over as he tapped on the bar to comment beneath her post. He knew that the fan pages for their relationship, celebrity news –and even political news- were going to have an endless supply of material to work with after today, but Jay couldn't find himself to care. He started typing; allowing all of the emotions her post had brought up to flow out into his words onto the very public social media. His bad boy image was truly gone.

 _Thank you, baby._ _You always give so much and ask for so little. How did I get so lucky? This has been the best birthday ever because I got to spend it with you. You made it perfect. You made it everything that one man can imagine and it's only just starting. I hope you know that I can't say it enough –I love you more than anything._

Words like that, coming from a guy like him, with his background, with his reputation takes the world by storm. So, it's no surprise that her post and his reply are screenshot by critics and fans and reposted on all forms of social media more than a thousand times. It's no surprise when they become the top three trending –their shipper name is number one, the term bad boy is number two and his birthday is number three. Jay was on a high, one that he didn't want to come down from anytime soon, so for his mental health and wellbeing, he doesn't read the comments. He pockets his phone and buckles his seatbelt, ready to get work out of the way so he can continue to celebrate his birthday with his favorite person.

-x-

"Erin," he called out after quietly shutting the door, "Erin!" She didn't answer and he immediately went on high alert. Something was wrong. Something wasn't right. His place wasn't that big for her not to be able to hear him. Ten minutes ago he had gotten off the phone with her and she couldn't have fallen asleep in that short amount of time.

Jay tossed his car keys onto the nearest hard surface as he stepped further into his penthouse. He just got back from hanging with his band; they managed to officially release their single A Fine Line half an hour ago and he even stayed a little later to appease his friends and hear their suggestions on a proposal. He turned them all down though. All of their ideas weren't perfect enough. She deserved nothing short of perfection and he was going to give it to her. If only he could figure out how…

As he continued further into the penthouse, he came to a stop to see if he could hear any movement. It was too quiet, "Erin, are you home?" He saw her shoes by the door. Her keys were on the coffee table. All of the lights were on. Her jacket was draped over the couch. Her purse was on the counter. Her cell phone was on his desk. She had to be here.

Nico raced out of the master bedroom and came nipping at his shoes, hopping up onto his two hind legs to scratch at Jay's pants in an effort to be picked up. His parent simply stooped down to ruffle the top of the dog's head, "Hey buddy, where's your mama?"

As if he understood the question, the puppy broke out into a sprint as he raced back into the master bedroom, barking in such a high pitched tone that Jay is reminded of the little guy's youth. In a few months, it'll be different, much deeper and much more threatening.

"Erin," he called out again. And he starts to make his way towards the bedroom but she steps out. She's wearing a pair of black leggings and a long white shirt that's a bit discolored from him washing the whites with the colored clothing. Her face is red; her eyes splotchy and filled with tears forcing him to move in closer and cup her face, "Baby, what's wrong?"

She opens her mouth to speak and nothing comes out. But, he's patient. Despite Nico running circles around and through their legs, he's in no hurry. When a tear escapes her eyes, he wipes it away with the pad of his thumb, "You're worrying me. What's wrong? Is it your parents?" She manages to shake her head, "Your brother?" She shakes it again, "What's wrong baby?"

"After I finished working, I started putting away the clothes that you had washed," she began and as she leads him further towards the plotline, the tears in her eyes start to fall more freely, "and something happened, something big happened."

Just as he did before, and just as he'll always do, he brushes the tears away with the pads of his thumbs, "What happened? What's wrong?"

"I might have found something…something that I shouldn't have found in your dresser."

A beat of silence covers them as her eyes break away from his and avert towards her clasped hands. In this moment he realizes that her arms never went around him. They've been in front of her, holding something precious against her abdomen and just as his eyes zero in on her closed hands, she starts to open them to reveal a small velvety box, "I'm sorry."

Jay sees the box in her hand and now he's the one that's speechless. The only sound in their home is that of Nico's nails scraping against the wooden floor as he runs around the penthouse, -so much energy in such a little thing. Jay's vision starts to blur the longer he focuses on the jewelry box in her hand; he's avoiding eye contact with her. He couldn't bear to see the look in her eye, to see the emotion behind her orbs that will tell him everything he needs to know about her thoughts regarding the ring. She's crying. Jay knows that from the amount of tears he wiped away. Considering his history with women, crying has never been a good thing.

She's going to say no. At least she would have if he asked.

If it was possible for his heart to break, it did in that moment. His girl wasn't his girl. He was so wrong in his judgment. Maybe this wasn't the best birthday?

Jay couldn't let her see him like this. He opened himself up for nothing. He let her into his heart, his house; he bought her a dog, he made love to her, -something he has never done to or with anyone. He fell in love with her, shared parts of his past, introduced her to loved ones and friends and it all wasn't reciprocated. Jay dropped his hands from her face and took a step back. He might be losing his world but he refused to lose his dignity. He shut his eyes and focused in on the sound of the dog running around probably in search of a chew toy or a shoe for him to gnaw on in an effort to ease his aching gums. His wagging tail beat against the back of Jay's calf muscle the second he comes to a stop. His tongue dangles out of his mouth as he looks up at his humans, -a dog's love is eternal and their loyalty and protectiveness is infinite.

Thanks Nico, he thinks as the dog unknowingly reminds him that he isn't alone in this.

He realizes that she was the last person to speak. He realizes that she's waiting for him to say something. Jay swallows and the big dry ball of nerves goes down uneasily, "You have nothing to apologize for. I've had it for a few weeks now," he clears his throat and tucks his hands in his front pockets, "You don't have to say anything. I just…I've just been thinking about the next step," he shrugs in an effort to play it off, "I've been freaking out about when I should ask you and-"

"Now is good." She interrupts. He was prepared to back track, to basically say that he couldn't figure out when to ask her but he's changed his mind and he'll hold onto it for if and when they're ready to take that next step.

Erin gently grabs his chin and turns his head to face her. There's a smile there. The tears are still there too. She's crying but the smile contradicts what he grew to believe about tears. She's happy. And she extends the closed ring box towards him and waits for him to take it, "Now is perfect," she whispers as she takes a step back.

This is not how he planned for this moment. This is not how he pictured it. Every day since they've been back to Chicago, he would sneak a glance at the ring, feel it, read the inscription and picture it wrapped securely around his girl's finger. Never did he imagine proposing this way. Never did he think he would be standing in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt with her in a pair of leggings and a shirt that's two sizes too big for her. The jewelry box in his hand feels foreign. As many times as he's ran his fingers against the velvet, no time he's done it has felt the way it feels now. He opens the box in his direction and stares down at the ring, "I've never been nervous about anything in my life," he admitted what she already knew to be true, "I wanted to ask you right away but I didn't know what you would say."

"How about you find out?"

Jay breaks his eyes away from the sparkling jewel in order to meet her gaze. There's a hesitation in his orbs. He's so vulnerable in this moment that it scares him, but the soft smile on his face gives him enough courage to lower himself on bended knee, hold up the jewelry box facing her direction and ask her the question accompanied by the words that's been spinning in his head for months, "I love you," when the declaration of love leaves his mouth she covers her own with the palm of one hand, "we've known each other for less than a year and I already love you so fucking much that it scares me. The memory of us meeting, of me bumping into you at the coffee shop is still so fresh on my mind and every time I think of that moment, I can't help but smile because it changed my life. You do that to me. You do that for me," he notices more tears collect in her eyes, "I never thought that this, that someone like you was destined to be in my future, but I'm a lucky guy for it," the tears in her eyes start to fall and it only encourages him to continue, "Look baby," he adjusts himself on his one knee when it starts to stiffen, "I know there will be tough times. I'm pretty sure there'll be times when we argue and turn each other away, but I also know that if I don't ask you to be mine, I'll regret it for the rest of my life. You're the first person I want to look at when I open my eyes every morning, the last person I see when I close my eyes every night, the only woman I kiss, make love to and hold, I want a future with you Erin; I want the dog, the house, the kids, I want everything with you because you're the only one for me. There is no one else and there will never be anyone else, only you baby," he gives her a soft smile and holds the jewelry box up a little higher, "So, what do you say? Will you marry me?"

"…yes." It comes out in a ghost of a whisper, one that begs to be repeated.

Jay stands up, the ring still held out as his eyes widen at the word he thinks he heard, "You'll marry me?" A smile slowly starts to stretch upon his face, -one reminiscent of the Cheshire cat.

"Yeah sure," she teases, slowly shrugging her shoulders as she wraps her arms around his neck, "Why not," her tone and response is quickly followed by a sincere one, "Yes, of course I will marry you. There was never a question about it. I love you, so," she quickly pecks his lips, "so;" she kisses him again, "so fucking much."

Grinning, he leans forward to kiss her.

The two get a little carried away but who could blame them. They're engaged! She's his fiancée! He's her fiancé! In who knows what amount of time, they'll be newlyweds, be married, be Mr. and Mrs. Halstead so who could blame them for not being able to contain their excitement. Jay kisses her harder and lifts her up into his arms; his muscles bulge as he rests the open palms of his hands against the curve of her ass. The ring box closed and fell to the ground.

"Wait," he pulled his lips away and carefully sets her back down to her feet, "I have to do this right," he gets back onto one knee, lifts the jewelry box and opens it, "I want you to be happy."

"I am," she takes in the ring for the second time that day, "I'm so happy."

"I hope you like it."

She nods, "I do," she's so excited, her eyes close as she extends her hand.

"And you'll marry me?" He has to hear it again. He needs to hear it again because it was only moments ago that he thought he would hear the opposite answer.

When her eyes reopened, he anxiously awaited an answer that he already knew, "Yes."

He was standing in a split second, bringing her into his strong and protective embrace and twirling her around in excitement. She giggled and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"You've just made me the happiest and luckiest man alive," he twirled her around again and when he finally stopped, and set her back down on the ground, she leaned in to kiss him, only for him to pull away, "Not yet," he had every intention of celebrating, "there's something I need to do first." Jay took the ring from its velvety box and slipped it onto her delicate finger, "now," he stepped forward and sealed their engagement with a kiss.

Jay was completely happy; he's in love, he has a fiancée, he's engaged to the woman of his dreams, a woman that he's actually going to fucking marry. He lifts her back into his arms and carries her towards his bedroom, being sure that he closes the door behind him before Nico gets a chance to run in. He had every intention of celebrating his engagement with his fiancée for the rest of the day, the week, the month or maybe just the duration of their engagement, only coming out to plan the wedding and for the occasional nourishment. They were engaged to be married; it was actually happening. She said yes! And while this moment wasn't planned and it definitely didn't go the way he expected, it was perfect. It was them. It was the perfect imperfect proposal and he couldn't have planned it because it was unexpected for the both of them, just like their relationship.

It didn't matter how he proposed. All that mattered was her answer. She said yes. And he would never take that or her for granted. She actually said yes! This was the best birthday ever.


	45. Man of Honor

Erin collapsed onto Jay's chest; both of them breathing hard as they drifted back down from cloud nine. She relaxed her cheek against his bare chest, lying over his heart, feeling the regular pitter patter of his heartbeat. Her fingers trailed up and down his abdomen, circling his navel before caressing and squeezing his hip. She couldn't help but smirk and turn her head to be met with a tender loving gaze that was focused on her, "You're warm."

"And you're beautiful."

"You're so corny," she chuckled.

"That may be true, but it doesn't take away the truth in my statement," he says, pushing himself up to an upright position; he leans his bare back against the headboard, "you're beautiful."

Erin pushed herself up, throwing one of her legs over his in order to straddle his waist. The only material of clothing that separates her skin from his is her underwear and his boxers. She grins down at the bulge she feels being pressed against her core; she bites her lip and shifts, moving her body up forward so his bulge would now rest against her lower back.

"Are you thinking big wedding or small wedding?"

He shrugs, "I'm thinking whatever you are."

"I want you to have a say in this," she whispers, staring down at the band of his boxers, dividing her time between staring at the ring on her finger and picking at a loose strand of fabric off the blankets that curtains their hips, "Do you want it private or televised?"

"…definitely private," he immediately answers, fingers skimming up her thigh and resting smoothly on her hip, "Are you thinking indoor or outdoor?"

"To be honest…"

Jay nods.

"…ever since my dad became the president," she thinks back to that vision she once had years ago, "I always pictured him walking me down the aisle on the south lawn of the White House. I can see the White House gate, citizens on the other side of it sneaking pictures, my mom in the front seat crying and my brother sitting next to her, failing miserably trying to console her."

"That sounds like a perfect idea."

"I want us both to be happy with it."

"And I am," he reassured, lightly squeezing her hips, "trust me, I am. Just seeing you talk about that vision of yours made me happy about it. I mean…who can honestly say they got married on the White House lawn? It'll be unique. It'll be us. We're not the beach wedding type and we're definitely not the church-wedding type. I think your idea fits us."

Caressing the side of his face, she brings it closer to her own. She pushed her lips against his, eagerly inhaling his warmth as her other hand circled around the back of his neck, "I love you."

"I love you and I want you to have the perfect wedding."

She laughed into the kiss before pulling away; he followed her, wanting to finish what she started, but the hand lying against his chest said otherwise, "Easy there tiger," she remained straddling his waist and his back was once again propped against the headboard, "I want to finish talking about our future wedding," he had proposed a few days ago and the two of them became hermit crabs as they celebrated together, "What's our budget?"

"You and I both know that's not something we even need to discuss." He was right.

"When do we want to get married?"

"…as soon as possible," he answered matter of fact, "I'd marry you today if I could."

"Any season in mind?"

"What season would it have to be in if I want to marry you this year?" The back of his knuckles start to brush up and down her bare sides. The sun outside is positioned right outside of his window, basking his room in an ethereal glow that has her resembling an angel. He felt her shiver beneath his touch and it took every fiber of his being to control himself, to not roll her over onto her back and slip off the little garments they have on that prevent him from slipping into her, "How much time do you need to plan our wedding?"

"If I were to plan it, we would end up having a five year engagement. I have every intention of hiring a wedding planner. And if you want anything in the spring or summer then it'll be next year; I'm pretty sure even the best wedding planner can't work that fast."

"It sounds like we're leaning towards fall-time."

She brightens up at the thought of it. She reimagines the image she had of their wedding day as she speaks, "That'll be beautiful. D.C. is gorgeous during that time of year. The weather feels good too; it isn't cold and it's not humid. November should be enough time." They compromised on that; he wanted their wedding to be this year and she managed to pick the month.

"I didn't give you the perfect proposal," he whispered, somewhat ashamed as he pushed a strand of her hair behind her ear, "but I want to give you the perfect wedding."

"The proposal didn't have to be perfect, but it was perfect for us. I wouldn't change it for anything. It meant something," his hand remained against the side of her face and she turned inward to peck the palm of it, "even though you thought I was going to say no."

"…not one of my best moments."

"Okay," she clasped her hands together, inching her body upwards, "Kids?"

It takes a minute for him to understand what she's asking, but once it clicks, his answer is automatic, "Eight."

And she laughs at that despite the serious expression on his face.

"Wow," her laughter abruptly stops the moment she realizes he wasn't joking, "Yeah, absolutely not. There's not enough patience in the world for me to handle eight kids."

"Fine, four?" he compromises.

"…three," she amends.

"Three," he repeats, slowly nodding along his agreement.

"Perfect, glad we can agree."

And their settlement became official with the seal of an ardent kiss. Her hands come up to tangle in his hair, gripping and yanking his short hair as she moves her body in closer. She wanted him and based on the bulge in his boxers she could tell he wanted her too. One of his hands moved from its place on her hip to rub against her stomach. It settles there as if it belongs, as if that's its permanent placement and when he doesn't retract it, Erin smiles against his lips, "What are you doing?" Her face remained close enough to his that her words made her lips brush against his, "I hope you know I'm not pregnant."

It was meant as a joke, but by the look on his face he didn't take it as one.

"As much as I've been inside you recently, it wouldn't be surprising if you were."

…when he spoke like that, it did things to her.

Unfortunately, for both of them, Erin shook her head, "I'm on the pill."

"You don't have to be," he doesn't know what's coming over him, but looking into her eyes, twirling his finger around her brunette hair, running his hand over her lower abdomen where a baby will one day live has him wanting that future now rather than later, "you can stop."

"Are you saying you want a baby?"

"…don't you?"

"I do, but-" she hesitates for a moment, struggling to find the right words, "but, not right now. I want us to have a permanent home first," when he opened his mouth to interject, she holds up her finger, "wait, let me finish. We go back and forth between here and D.C. I want us to have one residence where we predominantly live. Your mail still comes here. My mail still goes to the condo. We can't fly a newborn back and forth like that," she leans forward to press her chest against his, "And what about when you go on tour? Do we bring the baby along? What if they're not old enough for domestic travel? Do you leave me with the baby? That'll be the only alternative because I…I don't want a nanny," she leans upwards and seals her lips against his, "I want to have your babies one day, Jay. I do. But, I want us to plan when that happens because once I'm pregnant, I'm pregnant. Once the baby is here, the baby is here."

"I'll always be ready for you to have my kid," he says as he wraps his arms around her, "how about you let me know when you're ready?"

"How about we get married first? Enjoy some time as newlyweds and then open this topic back up for discussion." When her lips are puckered as she awaits his answer, he can't do anything but agree. She probably got everything she wanted as a kid because of those eyes and lips. He'll give her the world if he could. And if in the future, she blessed him with a little girl that inherited her mother's puppy dog expression then he knew he was in trouble.

Jay was just about to open his mouth to agree when the blaring of her cell phone had interrupted him, making him lose his train of thought. He could have sworn she silenced that thing. When did she have a chance to turn the volume back up? Why did she turn it back up?

Erin managed to remain straddling her boyfriend as she reached for the offending device at her bedside. He put one hand back on her waist to keep her there, to make sure she didn't lean too far and fall off the bed. The caller ID read the name of her closest friend who had horrible timing. She could only roll her eyes as she slid her finger across the glass screen and connected the call, "What can I do for you, Severide?" Erin held the phone up to her ear.

And Jay saw that as his cue to lean forward and press wet, open-mouthed kisses along her shoulder and collarbone. She ran her tongue over her lips salaciously, "Can this wait?"

"Is this a bad time?"

"Yeah," she held her breath when Jay rolled them over so he was now hovering above her, "I was uh, kind of in the middle of something."

"Are you alright?" The concern in his voice is real.

Erin's fine. She's just being turned on right now. Jay slowly drags her panties down her legs and she easily kicks them off, "I'm…I'm good. I just really need to call you back."

"What's going on? You sound…I don't know."

It doesn't take long for Jay to kick off his boxers and Erin knows, she really needed to get off the phone, but apparently there's nothing short of just hanging up on him that's going to do the trick.

"I'll explain everything later," she says in a rush as she watches Jay climb above her, grabbing his length to line it up with her core, "I'm celebrating my engagement. I gotta go." She hangs up seconds before her fiancé's erection slipped between her folds; she moaned on cue, tossing her head back as he started to pick up a steady pace.

-x-

Severide is the first to know of their engagement, but it doesn't mean they have to share it with anyone else right now. They were able to bask in their bubble for a few days before Erin unintentionally popped it. She blames Jay for that. Who could possibly focus and think rationally with a naked Jay Halstead in front of them? Severide had to take a moment to process the words his best friend told him; she was engaged and she was celebrating it and it didn't take a rocket scientist to tell him exactly how they were celebrating.

He gave them their space. He didn't call her back until almost a week after that initial phone call.

And this time when he answers and she speaks, she sounds like herself. Erin had just gotten back from taking Nico on a walk around the block –with her guards accompanying them. They even stopped at a nearby dog park to allow the little guy to stretch his legs freely. By the time she returned, Severide was calling, and he jumped right on subject when she answered, "You're engaged."

She couldn't stop the smile that took over her face, "Yes," she glances down at her ring; she seems to be doing that a lot now, "yeah, I'm…I'm engaged."

"I'm happy for you, Er," oh, how he wishes he could see her; this called for a celebration, "I'm happy for both of you. Congratulations."

"You're the first to know."

"I'm honored," she knows he's somewhere in his office in downtown Chicago with his feet propped up on his desk and his hands behind his head as she spoke through the speaker of his office phone, "I won't tell your parents."

"I truly do appreciate that," she chuckled, "and if you would be so kind and not tell anyone else, you would forever be the best friend a girl could ask for."

Best friend. Severide will never get used to her saying that. It took years, a lot of tears, arguments, hugs, celebrations and unforgettable experiences to earn that. He would never take it for granted. She sensed the mood change and she stepped out into the hallway, leaving a barking Nico in the penthouse alone. Jay and his friends were up on the roof, going swimming in an effort to take advantage of the rarity of a warm day at the end of February. She promised she would meet them up there, at some point after she walked the dog –and after Jay broke the news. She didn't want to be there for that. All the attention, all of the opinions and all of the looks and stares and questions that'll come, she wasn't ready for it.

Call her a coward, but she had to save whatever bravery she had for when it's time to tell her parents, -for when it's time to tell her father. With a kiss to the lips and a pat on the behind, she wished her fiancé good luck as he bid her farewell to go casually break the news to their friends.

"We're um," she leans her back against the wall, "we're planning a November wedding, and I uh...I want you to be my maid of honor, or my best man, no," she hits the palm of her hand against her forehead, "that's for the groom. What's the masculine version of that? Man of honor? Well, whatever it is, I want you to be that. Will you, Sev, will you be my man of honor?"

When he doesn't respond right away, she feels herself falling into a panic. She feels her heart rate beat faster at the thought of him saying no. Honestly, no one else came to mind; she had no other friends that were as close to her as Kelly Severide. Erin pushed herself off the wall and realized that the longer she waited for an answer, the tighter her grip had gotten around the phone, "I think I know why you're hesitating to answer…"

"I'm not hesitating Er, I'm just speechless."

It's like his words didn't register. It's like she's so caught up in her head that she overlooked his explanation, "I know gender roles dictate that I should probably have a female fill the position but there's no one else that comes to mind. It's not like its set in stone somewhere that it has to be a woman, you know? And since when did we do things by the books? We can talk about the role of a maid of honor and how that fits in with whoever I choose to be my bridesmaids and maybe the bachelorette party because the maid of honor plans that. And if you don't accept the position then I just won't have one because I refuse to ask Annie."

"Erin," he called out, interrupting her rambling. He chuckled when she silenced herself, "You know I love you, right?"

Erin wiped the escape tear that was trailing down her cheek, "Yeah and I love you too."

"So of course I'll be your man of honor or bridesman. I'm not ashamed to walk down the aisle, stand by your side and carry that title. Why would I be? This is your special moment, this is a day where everything you want to happen, should happen. My pride is not that big to reject being your man of honor because it's traditionally reserved for women. So, hell yeah I'm going to accept that role and I'll plan the best bachelorette party ever, a bridal shower too if that's what you want and if you get cold feet the day of your wedding, well, I'll be there to warm them up…figuratively speaking of course."

She chuckled. She knew what that meant. She reflected on his words. When the world looks at Kelly, they don't see the man that she sees –kind of like with Jay too. The world only sees the persona they put out but Erin has the privilege to see them for all they have to offer. Erin has had the chance to be best friends with a man who has protected and defended her from the media, the news, the paparazzi, the critics and even some of her own family members.

"You've gotten quiet on me," his words interrupt the silence in the hall. And she doesn't respond right away because she hears him send his secretary away when she accidentally interrupted the call. He did things like that for her. He always put his friends and family first.

"Sorry," she ran her hand down her face and smiled, "I'm just thinking about how lucky I am to have you in my life Kelly. I don't know how I would have gotten through everything without you."

"That's what friends are for, right?"

"Yeah, and when you finally decide to settle down and get married, you don't have to look too far for a best man, or a best woman, I guess because I'm already letting you know that I accept."

"That's mighty sweet of you considering I didn't ask; I actually have someone else in mind."

Erin's relationship with Kelly Severide is strictly platonic. The two of them have never crossed that line because their friendship meant everything to them. It was solid. It was the one fixture in their lives they knew would never change. She loved him like a brother, she loved him with her heart and she knows that must explain the sunken feeling at the pit of her stomach when he admitted that maybe she wasn't his only best friend. Kelly was her best friend. And when it comes to her close relationships, she didn't like sharing.

"…excuse me? Who is this person? They obviously have to be a best friend because that role is strictly reserved for a best friend. When did you meet them? You've obviously known me longer or else you would have mentioned them. How did they surpass me in the best friend category? It doesn't make sense. Kelly, we don't keep secrets from each other and you're hiding a whole person from me. Is it a he or a she? Are they a celebrity? Politician? Everyday citizen?"

"I was going to try to either make a joke out of this or say April fools even though it isn't April; I was even going to make you sweat on it and ponder about the possibilities but you know I've never been one to see you suffer. I'm just kidding Erin."

"You deserve to have your title revoked for that."

Kelly knew she was joking but he found himself growing sentimental, -only she could bring that out of him, "Damn girl, do you know what you mean to me?"

She had an idea. He meant the same to her. He took her silence as a reason to continue on.

"I'm so happy for you, Er. I truly am. And if anyone deserves this happiness, it's you."

"Thank you, Kelly; that really means a lot." And it does because he's been with her through more stuff than she cares to admit, more stuff than even her parents know about.

"And whatever you need me to do, whether dress shopping, fabric picking or flower arrangement, I might complain a bit, but I'll do it. You should know at this point that there's not much I wouldn't do for you. I always thought you deserved the world. I'm just glad you found someone who's willing to give it to you."

Jay had only known his fiancée had returned from her walk with Nico because Atwater had come up to inform them. He was assigned the task of telling his friends about the engagement but it just didn't feel right to do it without her. Instead, he chose to wait and to pass the time, he discussed something else with them, "I'm telling you guys this way in advance," he had started, earning the attention from all of them playing around in the pool, "you know Erin's birthday is in April and that's also technically our anniversary month, well the month we literally bumped into each other," each of them nod as they listen; all of them anxiously hope that this idea, this plan has to do with a proposal, "I kind of have an idea for a surprise."

"Pleaseeeee," Kim exclaimed, stepping out of the pool, "please tell me it's a proposal."

"…proposal," the voice that he loved so much had repeated the last word she heard as she approached him, her fiancé.

Her arms circled around him, enjoying the way her body fit into his so perfectly. She found it hard to let go, to untuck herself and lose the warmth he always provided. Eventually, Erin leaned back as best as she could, it wasn't far, considering Jay's arms were wrapped around her and he was holding her with every intention of not letting go. Still holding her, he looked down to meet her eyes, and she smiled, "What's this I hear about a proposal?"

Before she knew it, they were kissing. It was slow and soft. A method of distraction, his friends had thought in an effort to steer her away from Kim's slip up.

Their foreheads pressed together the second the kiss came to an end due to a need for oxygen. And they withdrew from each other's arms, "So, what's this I hear about a proposal?" Her arm wraps around his bare back as she stares up at him; he's smiling down, unable to break his eyes away. And the savior, that is Will jumps in, "we're planning to record a music video for A Fine Line since it's been on top charts for weeks and our idea for the video is to basically have Jay propose and make out with a woman on camera, but of course it'll be more to the plot than that," he thought of it off the top of his head, but majority of that was not false.

There will be a music video for A Fine Line. Plenty of video girls will be involved. There will be some kissing, no tongue. No proposal is in the script. Will had thrown that part in there to explain the word Erin's hearing had picked up on.

Majority of the band was staring at Kim, giving her an evil eye for opening up her big mouth. And Jay couldn't bear to hear the reprimand that would later come, so instead he interlocked his hand with Erin's and lifted it in order to press his lips upon the ring that wrapped around her finger. She met his eyes again and smiled and because of that, he couldn't hold the news in any longer, "Actually, Kim said proposal because they've all been pressing me to ask you."

All around them mouths had dropped. And the look on Kim's face appeared to be guilt, assuming that because she had slipped up Jay had decided to just propose right here on the spot.

"This is how you choose to propose," Mouse smirked, climbing up the ladder to get out of the pool, "that had to be the most unromantic way ever. You didn't even put it in question form."

"I don't think I understand what's happening here," Erin speaks up. She assumes that Jay already told his friends. He didn't. And she doesn't know that.

"Will was trying to cover for Kim because they thought she slipped up and clued you into our proposal," he started to explain and by the look on Erin's face, she did not understand, "I didn't get around to telling them babe," he gets straight to the point.

"Telling us what," And now Ruzek finds himself climbing out by pushing himself up and climbing over the wall of the pool, "What's going on?"

After inhaling a large breath and exhaling it, Erin extended her left hand and smiled, "We're engaged." And by the looks on everyone's faces, they were filled with a mixture of emotions that all translated to ones of excitement and pure joy. Those who remained in the pool immediately climbed out and their friends that had already gotten out had raced over to them, drawing them into hugs, kissing cheeks and inspecting Erin's engagement ring.

"This ring is beautiful," Kim gushed, inspecting the masterpiece closely, "Did you get this custom designed?" And when Jay nodded his head, her heart fluttered, "You've got yourself a keeper, Erin."

"I know," she couldn't help the smile that felt permanently placed upon her face.

Natalie took a hold of her hand next, "That thing is huge! Does it feel heavy?"

"…not really," she fanned herself as everyone eyed the way the sunlight sparkled against her jewel, "it's the perfect fit, the perfect weight, the perfect everything. He knows me well."

"And when did this happen?" Kim asked, it's obvious Rixton has his own question, but she eagerly jumped in and asked hers before he had a chance, "When did you propose?"

"…my birthday," he answered as that hand of his goes behind his neck to scratch.

"Oh," Ruzek exclaimed, putting two and two together, "so that's why you cancelled on going out clubbing that night. You said you wanted to end your birthday with your girl, but you just wanted to celebrate your engagement!" Adam pumped his fist in the air as the realization started to dawn on everyone's faces.

"Guilty," Jay shrugged.

"Wait," now Natalie is jumping in again, speaking up before Rixton had a chance to probe further, "why'd you wait so long to tell us?"

"We wanted to enjoy it, to bask in it. We wanted to keep it between us for as long as possible," Erin answered when Jay looked to her, "We're both public figures who practically live in front of cameras and we just wanted to have something privately to ourselves."

"When do you guys think you'll share the news?" It's Rixton that finally has a chance to ask his own question.

"…definitely after we tell her parents," Jay chuckled dryly, rubbing the back of his neck. He's nervous about Voight's reaction, -he's so goddamn nervous.

"And we kind of want to keep it private for a bit before we take it to the world," Erin added.

"Maybe next month we'll say something," Jay turns to Erin when he says this; his words were directed more towards her than their friends, "Will said we were offered a couple's television interview on Good Morning America and I figure it's a good way to break the news."

Erin is hesitant. She knows that once the news is released, it'll be out there. They couldn't retract the announcement. Their personal bubble will be popped and the world will know. Erin wanted to celebrate, she wanted the congratulations and she wanted the well wishes for a happy and long marriage from fans and strangers, but she was realistic and completely aware that with every good there is a little bad and she has to be willing to accept both. With well wishes for a prosperous marriage, there will be those that wish upon them divorce, with congratulations there will be criticisms and with public celebrations there will be people approaching them, snapping photos and asking questions about the plans involving their future nuptials.

And not to mention her dad, the president, he'll be asked questions; he'll be hounded for answers regarding his daughter being engaged to a man with a track record of sleeping around and getting arrested. His opponent –Edwin Stillwell- may even use her and her relationship –even though family should be off limits- against him. There were too many angles that everyday citizens didn't have to consider when announcing an engagement. It's a lot. And she wants to shout her good news from the rooftop, but she needed to remain levelheaded first.

"Why are you worried?" Jay asked when he saw her start to bite against her bottom lip, -it's her nervous tick, kind of like when he rubs the back of his neck.

"No reason." It's an obvious lie. And he gives her a look that lets her know he sees through it, "I think we should talk to my parents first before we commit to the interview."

"That can wait until tomorrow," he says before considering the fact that they'll still be in Chicago, "or maybe until we see them again. I do not need your father holding the fact that we broke the news through a phone call against me. He already doesn't like me."

"You're growing on him."

Jay laughs at that. Actually, all of them do, minus Erin. Her guards even crack a smile. No one believes her, but she knows her dad, she knows her dad pretty well and she knows how he is when he doesn't like someone. He may not have said it, he may not have expressed it to anyone, but Erin knows him and she knows that Jay is growing on him, slowly but surely.

"When do we see your parents in person again?"

Erin takes a brief second to consider the upcoming dates, "…next month, in early-March. I rsvped for us to speak at a rally for my dad in Cincinnati. It's the month of my brother's birthday so he'll be out of the country with some friends and I figure we can facetime him and break the news to them together."

"…less than a month we'll be in Cincinnati breaking the news to your parents about our proposal."

"Yeah," she smiles teasingly, taking a hold of both of his hands, "isn't it great?" Her rhetorical question earns an eye roll from him before he leans in to give her a kiss.

-x-

For the remainder of February, they celebrated their engagement with their friends. Mouse and Hallie –the latter of the two had found out later that evening- treated them to dinner the night they announced their engagement on the roof top, Will and Natalie took them out for drinks the night after, Burgess and Ruzek had taken them out on a double-date filled with dinner, a movie and ice skating, -leaving Adam bruised in more areas than he would care to admit,- and Rixton had hosted a game night in their honor the night before the end of the month; it ended with empty bottles of alcohol, empty boxes of pizza and it left all of them so intoxicated that they crashed at his place in varying uncomfortable positons, -Erin and Jay squeezed on his questionably stained couch, Ruzek on top of the pool table, Mouse on his bed, Hallie on the floor a few feet away from the bed, Burgess in the arm chair and Rixton in his empty tub. It was all questionable, but if there was one thing they took from that night, they had a great time.

Celebrating their engagement with their friends was heartwarming and absolutely, utterly exhausting. And now that it's March and in a few days they're scheduled to fly out to Cincinnati to attend and speak at her father's rally, they wanted to enjoy these last few days alone. After the rally, their days will be so busy that they'll rarely have time for each other, between work for the both of them and planning a wedding so they can actually get married in November like they want, there will be little moments in their days that they'll have to find the time to see each other.

Hence the reason why the two of them are out at a club in downtown Chicago, in a VIP booth that's being guarded by her guys. Its date night, something that Burgess and Ruzek –during their double date- advised them to get in the habit of doing. Apparently, it'll ensure the two of them never feel like they're forgetting their love in the hustle of work and the struggle of marriage. It's been a long time coming, this date, but it's here and it's necessary and even though it feels like her guards are playing babysitter, there's something about being in Jay's presence that makes it feel like it's only them and will always only be them.

"Tell Justin I said happy birthday," Jay had whispered into her ear after he set his chin against her shoulder; she had called twice earlier, but he didn't answer so she left a voicemail and because he had yet to call back, she chose to send him a text wishing him a happy 25th birthday, "and let him know I said have a great time in Italy."

She pockets her phone after she sends off the text, "He didn't answer when I called him earlier so I assume he's having a little too much of a good time."

"…or it could have been because of the time zone difference."

"Yeah," she considers it; that's definitely possible, "What's the difference?"

For a moment he holds up his finger as he searches on his phone the answer to her question, "It's seven hours. Italy is ahead of us."

"I hope he's being safe."

"Justin has like double the secret service guards with him," Jay reminds her, rubbing his hand up and down her arm in reassurance, "and not to mention he's with a few of his good friends."

"I always worry about him when he goes out of the country."

"Yeah, well, how about I take your mind off of him," his brow raises in question and he doesn't wait for an answer, he simply waves the bartender over and orders a bottle for the table.

She realized that his other hand was still running up and down her arm, tickling her flesh with the lightness of his fingers, "I can't believe he's 25. Time flies so fast. It's already March!"

"February _is_ the shortest month."

"It was _just_ New Years."

"A few months ago," he reminded, "and so much has changed since then." He was talking about their engagement. They're actually engaged. Jay Halstead and Erin Voight are actually getting married this year, a few months away, "How'd Severide take the news?" He meant to bring it up days ago when she asked him to be her man of honor, but with telling their friends and celebrating with them, the topic had gotten lost in the mess, "I assume he said yes."

She nods, "That he did. Have you thought about who you're going to ask to be your best man?"

"I have no idea. I was thinking Rixton or Mouse, but Will asked me to be his best man and I feel like I kind of owe him and should ask him to be mine. He _is_ my brother."

"Jay," she shivered when his hand moved to her back and gently started trailing up and down her spine, "choose who you want it to be, not who you think it should be." That was easier said than done. It was going to be harder than she could imagine. For her it was an easy decision. She had one close friend; he had a few.

Just at the thought of disappointing one of his friends made him feel nauseous. He didn't care about too many people, but his family and friends, he did. He didn't want to hurt any feelings and Erin could sense that, she knew that kind heart of his was oversized. And he had time to decide, he didn't have to choose right now so she switches gears on the conversation, "For the wedding, should we go open bar or cash bar?"

"Oh, definitely open," he laughed, appreciating the change in subject. He was starting to like talking about their wedding because he knew when the day came, she would become his missus and she'll carry his last name, at least he thinks, "Are you taking my last name?"

"Of course I am, I didn't think that was something needed to be talked about, but I want to carry your last name and when we have children, I want to share the same name as them." He kissed her because of that, he kissed her hard and he knew that when the night was over, he was going to show her just how much her taking his last name meant to him.

The back of his fingers, his knuckles ghosted over the side of her face as their bottle arrived to the table along with two glasses; he nodded his thanks to the bartender but he kept his eyes on her, "I actually wanted to talk to you about something else too."

"…should I be nervous?" She gulped, turning in her seat to face him.

"Nah," he adjusted his hand accordingly and now it caressed her jawline, "I just wanted to talk about the ring."

Both of their eyes glance to it dangling around her neck, tucked into the dress she's wearing. Until they're ready to tell the public, she'll be wearing the ring around her neck. Fans and the media are too observant for her to wear it on her finger.

"What about it? It's beautiful."

"What did you think when you found it?"

Erin paused, formulating her thoughts before deciding to buy herself some time by opening up the bottle of alcohol and pouring herself a hefty amount. She took a big gulp of it and scrunched up her face as it burned on its way down. When the glass was placed back onto the table, her eyes found comfort in staring at the wet ring forming around the base of the glass as she answered, "I freaked out. I panicked. I paced circles into your floor. Poor Nico was getting worried because I wouldn't relax. I debated on whether or not to put it back where I found it and pretend I didn't see anything, but…"

"…but?" he repeated, urging her to go on.

"But I knew I wouldn't be able to fake that. I wouldn't be able to pretend like I didn't know you were planning to propose and I kind of wanted to rush the process."

"I would have done it sooner but I kept talking myself out of it."

"Yeah, I kind of figured that too," Erin leaned into his arms, turning slightly to bury her face into his shirt, -he smells so good, "I figured if I put it back then I would be on your time but if I confronted you with it then it'll be on mine."

He hummed, lightly pressing a kiss behind her ear, "I was scared you would say no." She knew that too; he told her days ago. His words are muffled in her hair, "I wouldn't have been able to take your rejection."

"Why would I do that? Why would I say no?" She lifted her head to meet his eyes, "I love you too fucking much to ever say no to your proposal."

He met her lips for another kiss; it was one that was short and brief and filled with only a portion of the amount of love he felt for her. He didn't think a kiss could fit every ounce of emotion he had for her. She loved him so much. He was a very attractive man, her Jay Halstead, and she had no intention of ever letting him go. She couldn't wait to marry him in a few months. He was hers, and she wanted that to always remain to be true.

"Erin," she hears a familiar voice exclaim.

The woman in question attempts to squeeze through her guards but their large, muscular frames prevent her from doing so until Erin speaks up, "it's okay guys! Let her through."

Her guys step to the side allowing Annie to walk through. And her old, childhood friend who she hadn't seen in some time appeared to look good, she looked better than the last time she saw her.

"Annie," Erin spoke up, a small smile gracing her face, "what are you doing here?"

"I was on my way back from the restroom. I'm on a date," Annie shrugged it off like it was no big deal. This was definitely a big deal for Annie. She hasn't dated anyone since Charlie, this was a huge deal.

"I can go," Jay points over his shoulder.

"No, stay," Erin and Annie said in unison. This was awkward. Their friendship or what was left of it had become so awkward.

"Come sit with us Annie, for a few minutes, we need to talk," Erin scoots over in the booth, pressing her body closer to her boyfriend to make room for Annie to join.

After a hesitant pause, she eventually joins them, sliding into the seat beside Erin but maintaining a noticeable distance from her. Things have been strained between the two and it appeared that now Erin was ready to talk about it, "We should talk about the elephant in the room," Annie nods in agreement, "and I know you've been calling and leaving me messages but I wasn't ready to talk to you, not after what you did." She's referencing the Charlie incident.

Jay has to force himself to bite his tongue. He needed to be there for support but it was hard to do that when Annie, a woman he didn't particularly like, was more than likely going to make excuses for everything she's done wrong in their friendship. Jay avoids looking at her, he distracts himself by pouring himself a glass and swallowing it in one breath. His right leg is restless and as he reaches in to pour himself another shot, he feels Erin's hand settle on his thigh under the table, squeezing it in reassurance. He scoffs. He should be reassuring her, not the other way around, but she knows that he's in anger management classes and his anger won't suddenly be better over the course of a few weeks. And to be honest, when it came to Erin, he didn't like it when the people who are supposed to be her friends took advantage of that.

Annie took advantage of it for years, before he even knew Erin.

"…I draw the line at being used."

Jay realizes that he had been so caught up in his thoughts that he missed a good portion of the conversation. Annie was listening, nodding her head intently while Erin firmly stated the terms and conditions in continuing their friendship. She wasn't going to allow Annie to make her feel bad because she's successful, she wasn't going to allow Annie to walk over her just because she got the shorter end of the stick being involved with Charlie and she was definitely not going to let Annie use her and bring her into the custody mess that is between her and Charlie.

"I'm sorry about giving Charlie your number and address," she whispered as she shoved a strand of her hair behind her ear, "I should have been watching my phone, making sure he wasn't going through it. I'm sorry."

"I accept your apology."

"It's just," Annie starts, feeling herself getting worked up, "I just need a break from him sometimes and when he focused on you, he stopped focusing on me. I don't want him in my life but because we share a kid, I have to tolerate him at least until Travis is 18."

Jay had felt Erin's hand move from the top of his leg and the restlessness, the shaking came back when she placed it on top of Annie's hand, "You made your bed, you'll have to lie in it. My mom used to always say if you lie down with dogs don't be surprised if you get up with fleas."

"I'm surprised to know the stuff she told us, you remember."

"I listened despite what she might have thought," Erin defended, "I just didn't particularly care to follow through on what she advised."

"…such a rebel," Annie laughed.

"Hey babe," Halstead could see that their talk was wrapping up and this was date night and he'd like to get back to it, "we're getting low," he says as he divides the remaining alcohol in the bottle between their glasses, "and now we're out."

Annie starts to slide out of the booth, "I should get back to my date."

"Is he better than Charlie?"

"Oh, much better, he's a good man, father too, he has a son close to Travis's age," Annie nods enthusiastically, "and he's fully employed too; he's a soil conservation technician."

"What the hell is that?"

"I have no idea but it sounds boring and it's a legitimate job!"

Annie left soon after that. And their night had only gotten better. Jay opened a tab and the drinks continued to be served with the occasional greasy food being placed in front of them to soak up as much alcohol as possible. It didn't work as much as Jay wanted it to because the both of them were passed the line of tipsy and settled right into intoxication.

"Atwater!" Erin exclaimed, struggling to slide out of the booth. The simplest of tasks seemed to be a little harder when drunk, "Can you call us," she hiccupped, "a taxi?"

"We're your ride," her guard reminded.

"Can't you guys just follow?" Her feet planted on the ground and she grabbed onto the table to steady herself, "I really want to ride in a taxi."

Her guys didn't complain. They would call for one, they would have a few words with the driver before they got into the car and then they will closely follow behind.

As they stand outside, waiting for the taxi to pull up, Jay realized that in this moment, Erin was at the highest level of intoxication that he's seen her. She was touchy; she couldn't resist feeling on him, kissing him and if it wasn't for her guards creating a circular barrier around them then he was pretty sure photos of the president's daughter kissing him, squeezing his butt and rubbing her hands up and down his chest would have surfaced in the next hour.

By the time their taxi arrived, she was all over him, kissing him with a furious passion that implied the night was only just beginning. She couldn't wait to get home; neither could he.

Sitting in the backseat of the cab on their way back to their penthouse, Erin kissed her fiancé passionately, determined to continue their celebration of the night. That celebration, the passion and the love all mixed in with the alcohol consumed during their night out had turned into pure sexual desire, as they'd spent majority of the ride flushed against each other, making out. As distracted and filled with need as they are, they came close to losing themselves, to taking their want for one another a bit too far, but fortunately for them, the cab pulled up to the back, private entrance of the building.

Erin uses the tip of her thumb to wipe the lipstick off her boyfriend's mouth, "I apologize for all of that," she says to the cab driver who gave her a devilish smirk in return.

"For a sizeable tip, I honestly would have let you do whatever you wanted back there."

Erin hesitates, honestly considering his offer when Jay makes the decision for them. He tossed the cabby the amount they owed, before pulling her out of the car. He's obviously displeased with the man's offer, the possibility of an audience did nothing for him; it simply angered him even more at the thought of someone else obtaining a glimpse into their private life and more specifically, a glimpse upon her unclothed.

The money scattered around the front seat after Jay tosses it in his direction. His possessiveness, his jealously forced his hand to press against her lower back a little harder than usual as he directs her towards the back entrance.

"Sorry," she tosses over her shoulder, stumbling over her feet a bit inebriated, "maybe next time." She throws a wave over her shoulder as her boyfriend guides her into the building.

He leaned against the wall of the elevator, confidently and unabashedly looking her over as it took them up to their penthouse. Their faces are hot and pressed together as they stumble out of the elevator and into his penthouse, tossing garments and articles of clothing to the side until their naked. She sighs into his mouth, suppressing a yawn as his nails dig into her hips, "Babe," she whispers, drawing her head back; she was all for this an hour ago, "we might need a raincheck," her eyes glanced down at his hanging member. He couldn't get it up. Maybe he had drank a little too much?

"That's a little embarrassing," he chuckled bashfully. But, honestly, Erin didn't seem to mind. Her eyes were partially open and she couldn't stop yawning. He pecked her lips, "How about we get some sleep and try again in the morning? I'll definitely be up if you catch my drift."

"I do," she laughs, "and you better. No more drinking so much if it causes," she pauses and looks back down, "that."

One of the best ways to sleep, he found to be was naked, spooning his fiancée from behind. He held her warm body up against his, "Are you happy?" He spoke into the darkness of their bedroom. The only reason he knew she was awake was because her breath hadn't evened out yet.

"Very," she shifts under his arm and turns around to face him, "I'm so happy."

"Good," he leans in to kiss her lips and the second he pulls away, he notices that her eyes are closed and her breathing has evened out, "Goodnight baby," he kisses her nose and lays back down, having one arm underneath the pillow and the other around her bare waist. That night, he fell asleep with a content smile on his face, to know, that he'll fall asleep next to her forever and a day has him already looking forward to the future, to November, to their wedding.


	46. One and Only

Most of their loved ones knew about the engagement, most of their friends had celebrated with them. The ring was still worn on a necklace around her neck and tucked under her shirt. Even with it around her neck, she wouldn't put it past his fans to see it and speculate on the reason behind Erin suddenly wearing an engagement ring as a necklace. It had been a few weeks since he proposed, a few weeks since his birthday and a few weeks since this secret has been burning into her, pressing up against her in a way that begs to be released.

And now that today is the day she'll be telling her parents, she wished she had more time.

The countdown had begun the second they boarded a flight from Chicago to Cincinnati, and the countdown had ended the moment her guys parked the rented truck in the back of the auditorium that was rented out for today's rally. Her dad has been busy since the start of the new year, dividing his time between running a country and being on the campaign trail, stopping in cities to speak with supporters and rally. The polls were in his favor and he wanted to keep it up. It was too close of a race to get idle and complacent. Cincinnati is the last stop scheduled on his campaign until August and because of that, he wanted to end it with a bang by bringing out his daughter –who the American people loved- and her boyfriend.

Despite what Hank Voight thought or wanted to believe, Jay Halstead simply dating his daughter had done wonders for him in the polls. It made people more interested in politics because they were interested to see who the lucky lady was that stole their favorite celebrity's heart. It brought out potential voters who had chosen to sit out the last election. It was helping him win the young vote, the votes of people under the age of 30. He just had to keep up the memento, to speak to those voters, reassure and inform them on how he was going to make their lives better.

This week Erin and Jay are in Cincinnati and next week they'll be flying to New York for an interview, a couple's interview. The network is expecting over five million viewers just for the 30 minute interview. Will had rsvped. He had given the producers his word that they'll show and while Erin wasn't too happy about that, Jay reassured her that doing an interview didn't mean they had to announce their proposal. If they weren't ready… Erin may actually be though; she was tired of wearing her ring around her neck. She was ready to place it back where it belongs, -on her ring finger. The two of them can do their first sit down interview together regardless of if they announce their engagement. No harm, no foul.

Erin pulls the curtain back a smidgen to take a look at the growing audience. She could feel her boyfriend pacing behind her, she can sense his nervousness.

"You're freaking me out," she releases the curtain and takes a step back, "Calm down. You perform in front of millions of people every year. That audience has nothing on them."

He scratches the back of his head, "That's not why I'm nervous." His palm are sweaty.

"What's going on with you?" She inquires because maybe there's something she can do to help him, to relieve him of some of his anxiety. Since they stepped off the plane, he's been a ball of nerves that she just chalked up to public speaking.

"…your dad keeps eyeing the ring around your neck."

She glances down, "Shit." She forgot to tuck it into her shirt. Her dad's a smart man; he probably knows already, "We should go talk to him, preferably before he heads out on stage that way we're not stuck with him while he processes it all."

"You don't think he'll approve." He starts pacing again.

Erin reaches out to grab his hand, "I didn't say that."

"You didn't not say that either."

"Okay," she chuckles, hand falling to lie on his chest, "double negatives confuse me."

"Sorry," he smiles, eyes falling to stare at the shimmer of the jewel that dangles around her neck. It does that a lot –shimmers- every time it catches the light.

"We should just do it and get it over with? It's like ripping off a band-aid, right?"

He scoffed at that analogy, "That's far from it. Maybe we can ease into the news? Let's start with your brother then tell your mom and then your father."

"Nope," she shakes her head; her long ponytail going from side to side, "that's not going to work because if my brother knows before my mom then she won't be happy. We have to tell them together, at the same time, because my dad won't admit it but he won't be too happy either if my mom knows before him. He looks intimidating on the outside but inside he can be really sweet."

At that moment her father walks into the room, holding hands with his favorite lady. Jay had every intention of responding, of trying to think of another way to stall or figure out how to convince Erin to tell her father, the president he's marrying his daughter through text message or e-mail. Anything but face-to-face.

"People are still arriving," Camille says, releasing her husband's hand as she walks over to start adjusting the collar of Erin's sweater dress, "but we are set to start on time. Your dad's chief of staff will go out first then I'll be out to introduce you, then Jay and then your dad will come out to close. It should all be over in a little over an hour. Have you spoken to your brother?" Camille starts pulling at a piece of loose thread on her daughter's dress, trying and failing to rip it off.

"No, he-" and suddenly, as if on cue, her phone rings and an image of her brother pops up. She was just about to tell her mother that her brother never seemed to be by his phone whenever he leaves the country. It's so hard to get into contact with him. It'll be easier to call one of his guards and then ask them to pass the phone along to Justin. He was truly living his best life.

Erin answered the phone after the second ring and despite the amount of money she pays for a good data plan; the image appears to be choppy. His face is frozen. It reminds her of the days when Jay was on tour and they would try to FaceTime or Skype one another.

"Hey guys," Justin waves, "I'm not late, am I?"

Her mom practically shoves her head into the phone in an effort to try and see her son, "No, you're right on time. Isn't that right, Hank?"

She had forgotten her dad was in the room. He had been unusually quiet. It's making her nerves flip and she can't imagine what it's doing to an equally unusually quiet Jay.

"Right," his gruff voice says, eyes averting from his wife's eyes to the chain wrapped around Erin's neck. The ring was tucked under her sweater but the chain was still noticeable against her flesh. He knew something was up. And even though Justin was catching them all up on his trip, it didn't stop him from interrupting, "you actually have impeccable timing Justin because I believe your sister has an announcement to make."

Why did she ever think she can fool him? She's never been able to do so as a child and she'll never be able to do it as an adult. He used to be a detective; it's a skill of his that's never gone away, -noticing what others are trying to hide.

Jay looks like he's about to puke and Erin just wants to comfort her fiancé. She walks over to him and caresses the side of his face as she whispers, "It's like ripping off a band-aid."

Justin waits for the news. He's probably the only one in the room that's actually confused about what's going on. Her mother appears to already know what's going on, if her face is anything to go by. Her eyes keep falling to Erin's empty ring finger before suddenly flashing towards Jay with a silent question haunting behind her orbs. She knows too. How long has she known?

"Spit it out Er," Justin says impatiently, "my flight leaves in a little over one hour and I would like to know before then." He's flying back to D.C.

Erin hands the phone to her mother and Camille actually plays a great camerawoman for a person that is not tech-savvy. She flips the camera so Justin can see his sister grab the necklace around her neck and pull it from under her sweater dress, "…almost a month ago," she starts by whispering and while Jay has never saw himself as a coward, he's definitely feeling pretty cowardly right now, "Jay proposed," she continues and she honestly sees her mother holding her breath, refusing to let it out until she finished, "he asked me to marry him," she clarifies as if no one understood her initial remark, "and I said yes."

Jay's arm is now around her waist. He's holding onto her like a life vest as if she's the only person who can keep him afloat. He's not worried about Justin's reaction; he's not worried about Camille's either, -more so because he already knew she approved and that she was aware that a proposal was fast approaching. All Jay could seem to focus on was Hank Voight as he silently stood a few feet behind his wife, looking at him with eyes that could intimidate the strongest man. Halstead would hate to be on his bad side.

"Congratulations guys," Justin cheered through the phone; he's celebrating them hours and time zones away and it feels really good, "I'm happy for the both of you. I've always wanted a brother." And that just had to be one of the sweetest things Erin has ever heard her brother say.

"Justin get back as soon as possible so I can give you a big hug and a kiss."

"…ugh," he rolls his eyes mockingly, "just not in public."

Justin couldn't stay on the phone longer than that because they were boarding. The family bid him a nice and safe flight before ending the call. One down, Jay thought, two to go. And it didn't go unnoticed that Hank Voight hadn't said anything. He didn't even speak when his son had to get off the phone. Camille stepped forward and handed her daughter her cell before pulling her into her arms. For such a small woman, she had a mighty grip. She squeezed her tight and peppered kisses around her daughter's head, "I'm so happy for you! My baby is getting married! Oh this is so exciting! I can plan the wedding for you, free of course; it'll definitely help with how busy the two of you are! Oh my goodness, where to start? Maybe with-"

"…breathe Camille," Voight finally speaks, proving that he hadn't lost his voice. He'd been distracted by his wife's reddened face and rapid speaking. She's hyped. She's excited.

"I wouldn't mind if you planned the wedding," Erin says, glancing over her shoulder at Jay; he had no argument, "you just can't go overboard. I know you ma, I know how carried away you can get when it comes to planning stuff."

"You have my word," she crossed her heart, "I just need to know your vision."

And for the next few minutes Camille had asked questions and Erin and Jay answered them. The time that passed had only stalled for Voight's reaction. He didn't attempt to speak over his wife, if anything; he was still processing the news and was grateful for Camille's tenacity because it brought him time. Her assistant had been called into the room; she broke the news almost the second she stepped inside because she wanted her to take notes on the answers that Erin and Jay provide. Before Erin even answered her mother's question, she stated matter of fact, "We aren't telling anyone but close friends and family. We don't know when we'll tell others."

Her mother waved her concern away, "Oh, she won't say anything. Isn't that right?" Her assistant nodded before putting pen to paper to prepare to write, "Okay, first things first. What are we thinking? A local or destination wedding? A summer wedding on the beach? A spring wedding at the cherry blossom festival? What's your vision baby?"

Erin took a quick glance at Jay and when he silently nodded his head, reassuring her that the idea she had for their wedding was perfect for them.

"November. Local."

Camille tilted her head, "I beg your pardon."

"We were thinking of a November wedding at the White House."

"…that's nine months away," Camille stated the obvious, "and if it's at the White House then we'll need your guest list as soon as possible so security can run extensive background checks."

"We can do that. When would you need it by?"

That, Camille didn't know so her assistant answered, "No later than April." That didn't leave much time. That's next month. Erin nodded anyway. It'll just be number one on their priority list. Once that was settled Camille asked her next question, "Indoors or outdoors?"

"Outdoors," Jay answered.

And her mother nodded in silent approval as her assistant wrote it down.

"What about the south lawn?"

Erin smiled, "You've read my mind."

"Perfect," Camille bounced excitedly, clasping her hands together in anticipation, "open or cash bar?" _Open._ Everyone was in agreement on that. "Bouquet toss or no?"

"…bouquet toss," Jay answered and Erin was surprised to find that all the little rumblings or mentions of her wedding and ideas she's had for it that she stated, he remembered.

"Assigned seating or allow the guests to choose?"

"…assigned seating," Erin answered. The two of them honestly haven't discussed that part but neither were too focused on it. Her mother could be in charge of her side of the family and Jay can choose someone to assign the seats on his side.

"Custom or classic vows?" Camille was truly asking all the big questions. Questions they've never considered or thought about, "Custom," Erin answered and Jay nodded along.

Hank Voight was still quiet. No smile on his face was present but there was a flicker of a grin when Atwater entered the room holding Nico's leash as they returned from a walk around the block. Her dog had gotten big in the last month alone. Nico had raced up to Hank's leg and took a seat beside him. "Do you want plated dinners or buffet style?"

"I don't know," Erin shrugs; she looks to Jay, hinting that she wouldn't mind him answering this question, it could be whatever he wants, "What do you prefer?"

"…maybe we flip a coin?" That was his input. All the women in the room rolled their eyes.

"If you two don't mind, how about I make a suggestion?" Camille offered; she was being extra careful not to step on any toes, -figuratively speaking. Her daughter nodded. Jay waved for her to go ahead, "I think plated dinners are the way to go. It's much more formal, it takes away the lines that'll develop if there were a buffet and you don't have to worry about running out of food. I've been to enough weddings in my lifetime," she's referencing the endless amount they've attended for other people in office, "I've experienced both the buffet style and the plated style."

"…plated it is," Erin agrees. She didn't care about that part. She just wanted to marry him.

And by the look on his face, he's thinking the same. Her father still has yet to say a word. Now it's starting to make her nervous.

"Are you allowing your guests to bring a plus one?"

"If we do…" Jay hints for her to continue. He suspects it's more, that it's not an easy, simple explanation like most everyday citizens will think. He's marrying the first daughter.

"If you do then we'll also have to know those names by April for the background check and for the plated dinner; we need a head count."

"No plus ones," Erin answered. She didn't want strangers at her wedding. She wanted it to be an intimate service with her family and close friends watching her marrying the man of her dreams.

"Smart thinking baby girl," Camille winked at her daughter, "now were you thinking to have the reception at the White House as well?" Her daughter nodded in confirmation, "Inside?" He daughter nodded again. This proved enough that Camille knew her daughter well.

Hank Voight is still quiet. And Erin tells herself that by the time she's done with her mom, if he hasn't said anything then she'll initiate the conversation. She cannot imagine what's going through Jay's head right now. Jay suddenly reaches his hand out for hers as he interrupts her mother's rambling to her assistant with a question of his own, "For the engagement announcement, we were thinking of doing it on Good Morning America?"

"…next week?" Camille asked. She knew her daughter's schedule almost as well as her guys.

"Yes," Jay and Erin answer in unison.

"I think that's a good idea. It'll definitely make your dad pretty popular in the polls."

"And what about us? Do you think it's going to make them invade our privacy even more?"

Camille considers her daughter's question and she even looks over to her husband, asking with her eyes for him to weigh in. He doesn't. So, she answers, "I don't think it'll make them do more than they're already doing. The public will find out regardless. I say just get it over with and to announce it on live television in front of millions of people sounds pretty romantic."

Erin looked over to her father to see if he was going to add anything. He was busy looking at Nico, -probably on purpose. He was bent over, patting her dog's head.

"Dad, do you have anything to add?" She has one hand holding her fiancé's hand and the other is behind her back with her fingers crossed in hopes that he'll remain levelheaded.

"…it's not like you're going to listen to what I have to say."

"You know I value your opinion."

He scoffs, "You don't but it's cute that you think you do."

"Hank," Camille snapped.

"Sir," Jay cautioned. The two spoke in unison. His attitude was not warranted.

"Is there something you want to say to me Halstead?" Voight steps towards him and the second Jay took his own step in the president's direction, his secret service made their presence known, warning the future first son-in-law to heed their advice and step back.

Jay didn't like many things but the thing he didn't like the most is when people disrespected his fiancée. That pissed him off. Regardless of whom they were.

"Dad, I'm getting married and I want you to be happy for me. I want you to walk me down the aisle. I want you to realize that I'm an adult and I can make my own decisions. I love him."

"I don't doubt that Erin," he turns to look at his daughter, hand reaching out to cup the side of her face, "I've always seen you prove your love for him. You've traveled to different parts of the country to see him perform, to witness his talent firsthand. You've risked your job for him. You've bailed him out of jail, out of trouble. I do not doubt your love for him, but you have to understand why I question his love for you. You've done so much for him, sacrificed so much, and I've yet to see him do anything of the such for you. The two of you have been together for less than a year and I'm worried that you're rushing into things. I don't want you to regret anything. I don't want you to think down the line that you've made a huge mistake and should have waited. I'm your dad and it's my job to protect you. I don't want to be the bad guy Er, but I can't help but wonder what do you get out of this? It just appears to me that he gets so much from being with you: a change in reputation, career opportunities such as performing at the White House, an increase in popularity to older people who knew you but not him and wealth. I want you to be sure that this is love, and not strictly lust. I want you to be sure that he's the one."

Voight leaned forward and kissed his daughter's forehead, lingering his lips as he closed his eyes and inhaled her scent before backing away to grab Nico's leash and walk out of the room as if the case was settled. He left his daughter speechless. And that was a rarity for anyone to have ever been able to do.

-x-

The crowd is loudly cheering as the first speaker –his chief of staff- took the stage. It's lively in the front, but it's awkward in the back. It's quiet. Camille hadn't even said a word since her husband spoke. Erin hadn't released her fiancé's hand, choosing to hold onto it to present themselves as a united front. She wasn't going to let her dad's words get in between them.

Her dad's chief of staff is out there, speaking to the public, hyping them up in anticipation for Camille's arrival. Before her mother walked onto the stage, she turned to face the young couple and squeezed both of their shoulders, "He just needs time."

Jay sadly smiled; it didn't reach his eyes, "You keep saying that." He sounds defeated. He doesn't know what else to do to prove to the man that he is completely in love with his daughter.

"He needs more time than the average father," she reaffirmed her statement; Camille dropped her hands from their shoulders and took a step back, "maybe you should talk to him. Help him see what Erin sees; show him what I see, what Justin sees, what her guards see. All he knows is your past and he's afraid that it'll repeat itself which'll leave his daughter heartbroken and alone. I understand his point of view, I might not agree with it but I can see where he's coming from. I think anyone with children will understand."

And Jay did. Kind of… He changed. Erin has seen it. Her guards did too since they're always with her. But Voight didn't. He'd only known what was revealed through tabloids, through interviews Jay had done in the past, through background checks and through celebrity news.

Camille had wanted to say more. She had every intention of guiding him through the process. But, her husband's chief of staff had announced her and before she realized it, she was ushered onto the stage. The bright lights in the auditorium blinded her and it took her raising her hand to shield her eyes for her to be able to see just how many people were in the audience.

…just how many people had come out to show their love and support for her husband.

The first lady smiled and gripped the edge of the podium as she cleared her throat, "Hello Ohio and thank you all for joining us in what is to be considered another important election year," the crowd whooped and hollered before silencing themselves in unison, "It was almost four years ago when you all elected my husband for president and in that time unemployment has gone down, healthcare costs have dwindled and housing and education has become more affordable," the crowd shouted out in agreement and she continued to speak through it, "and we've done a lot, we've done so much, but we're not done yet."

Through the curtain Erin watched the audience practically fall in love with her mother. She was captivating. She had a way about her that made people want to listen. She was humbled. She was a gifted public speaker; she knew how to reach her audience and pull them in. And Jay realized in this moment that Erin's gift of communication had come straight from the source, -Camille Voight. She knew what to say to bring the crowd in and she knew when to take pauses to allow the audience to clap, to cheer, to holler and suddenly Jay felt himself growing nervous. And as if she had to prove that she knew him more than she already did, Erin asked, "What's wrong?"

"…despite the obvious," he nodded over towards her father who had been occupied giving Nico a bowl of fresh water, "I…I don't know if I can do this."

"Do what?"

"Go out there," he releases the part of the curtain he had been holding to peek, "I don't know if I can go out and speak and do that." He's referencing to the way her mom owns the stage, walking back and forth with the microphone in her hand as she continues to hype up the crowd.

"You're not serious, are you?" She doesn't give him a chance to answer before she continues, "Babe, you're a rockstar. You perform in front of millions every year. You make a living hyping up a crowd and getting people pumped up to dance to your music, learn your lyrics and buy your albums. You can do this in your sleep."

"That's my music Er; this is different, this is politics."

Erin cannot help but think about how far they've come. It was some time last year when he refused to be vulnerable in front of anyone, especially her. And now he's opening himself up, allowing her in without a moment of hesitation. She loved him so much for that.

"Jay," she grabbed his upper arms, forcing him to turn and face her, "listen to me clearly. Most of those people out there are here because of you, because you rsvped. At rallies, we usually get somewhere in the hundreds. It's over a thousand people out there, pumped up and ready to vote in November because you're here and you're showing support for my father."

"I don't want to say the wrong thing."

"You won't. You're not about to go out there and debate politics with his opponent. You're going to go out there and do one of the many things that you do best: be yourself."

And as if on cue, her mother had introduced her and after pecking the corner of her fiancé's cheek, she pulls the curtain back enough to squeeze through and walk out. She waves at the crowd as she makes her way towards her mother. Camille turned to face her girl, "They're pretty hyped for you," her mother laughed, taking a step back and relinquishing the podium.

Camille was told to stay on the stage. When Erin is finished, she'll introduce her boyfriend and then take a step back to stand with her mother. Voight's campaign manager had thought it would be a good idea for Hank Voight to speak to the crowd with his family surrounding him. Camille stood a few feet back, to the right of her daughter. She was a silent support as Erin greeted the residents of Cincinnati and those who traveled from nearby distances to witness this moment.

"It's that time of year again," Erin picked the microphone up and moved around the podium. She didn't prefer talking behind one, "It's the time of year for us to make an intellectual decision and use the right that many have died trying to obtain and go out there and vote," claps, hoots and hollers followed that statement, "I know for many of you this'll be your first time voting and my family and I are humbled that you're exercising that right to vote for Hank Voight," more applause sounded and she smiled, "my mother mentioned that he has so much more in store for the country if he's rewarded another four years of service, another four years of working for all of you. Prison reform, sentencing reform, police reform, gun reform, immigration reform and an awareness and increase of services for those suffering from mental illness are just a few of the policies my father has established and want to move forward on. This is America; this is the land of opportunity, this is the land of diversity, of an immersion of different cultures. This is a country where you walk on some of the most beautiful beaches, climb the most spectacular mountains, walk through some of the grandest deserts and witness the sights of volcanoes, hot springs, farmlands, national parks, prairies and rivers," Erin felt somber as a realization of what this diverse country has to offer; she smiled when she realize the audience was envisioning it all with her, "We have some of the greatest cities in the world: Washington D.C., New York City, Los Angeles, Las Vegas, Chicago and that's only a few of the many. The greatest musicians, comedians, Hollywood actors and actresses, Disney, theme parks and mainstream dances have originated from our country. We have the right to free speech where we can criticize those in power and hold them responsible. We are a country of immigrants, of inventors. We have a great military. We have delicious barbeque and anyone who knows me knows I love food, all kinds of food," the audience silently chuckled at that, "we have apple pie; we have cheesesteaks, macaroni and cheese, cornbread, crabcakes, Chicago and New York style pizza, sloppy joes, reubens, clam chowder, ribs and so much more. I'm getting hungry just talking about it," the audience laughed even harder, even louder, "We have American football, the Super Bowl, Broadway, Nascar, we have historic sites and monuments and most importantly, we have each other. We have all of that because of all of you, because of all of our ancestors who used the American Dream, who came to the land of opportunity and made something of it. Now let's continue to make something of it for all the generations to come."

Erin had looked back to glance into her mother's eyes and she smiled. Camille always felt herself get emotional when she was awarded the opportunity to see her daughter in the limelight. She had a knack for public speaking and if Erin ever decided to venture into the political arena then she knew her words, her ability to persuade with them and her ability to reach out and capture the ears of the people who tried not to listen would benefit her in the future.

"…and without further ado," Erin had begun and suddenly Camille realized she missed the end of her daughter's speech, "let's give it up for Jay Halstead."

Jay walked out with a swagger to his step, an appeal and a charm to him that drew everyone from their seats as they applauded loudly. She sat the microphone down and met him half way. He hugged her and if that was anything to go by the crowd appeared to live for that moment based on the volume of their squeals –or the squeals from those that are between the ages of 18 and 30. It had seemed to only grow louder when he kissed he ear, "I told you they're here mainly for you. One little hug and a kiss and they're already falling out of their seats."

"…just wait until we announce our engagement," he ended his statement with a quick peck to her lips and she realized that he really needed to stop doing that before someone in the crowd passed out or had to be taken out on a stretcher.

Halstead approached the podium just as Erin moved to take a step on the other side of her mother. She was more so towards his back left while Camille remained on the right. He lifted the microphone and turned it back on, "Good afternoon," the room grew in volume as a chorus of the same greeting was returned, "a year ago I never thought that I would be at a political rally voicing my support for a presidential candidate but it seems that a lot can happen in a year. As many of you know, I'm dating Erin Voight," the crowd started clapping and he really needed to get some sort of control if he was going to finish in time; he had ten minutes, "and as a part of dating Erin I was immersed into her world, her personal and professional life and that included this, getting involved in politics. I saw how entertainment news and political news enmeshed itself when Hollywood and politics did. And it all just reminded or I guess reinforced the idea that we're not separate, we're affected by the policies and the laws that are passed in Congress, we have just as much say in our votes as everyone else and it's our right as citizens to rock the vote. As a celebrity, as an American man, as a boyfriend, as a son and a brother, as a guy who wears many hats, I had to think about what was important to me like climate change and global warming, access to healthcare and vaccinations, common sense gun control, no fly list gun control, mental health, minimum wage, equal pay, paid sick leave, military strikes, foreign aid, the overcrowding of prisons, student loan forgiveness and so much more, that's such a small fraction of every political issue that's out there, but it's a start and it's a move in the right direction if we back Hank Voight."

And if on cue, her father appeared, tightly holding Nico's leash in one hand as he waved with the other. Jay backed away from the podium; his introduction of her father was smooth, so smooth that she didn't realize he'd combined his speech with her father's introduction. Erin and Camille moved in, approaching the podium to stand beside Voight as he greeted the crowd.

"That was amazing," Erin complimented, pulling her boyfriend into a warm embrace.

"…I did a little research while you were out here," he bashfully admitted, rubbing the back of his head. He took a hold of the leash from Voight and passed it along to Erin.

The crowd seemed a bit obsessed with Nico, as he lays beside her feet. She's standing at the front of the stage with Jay and her parents and she's waving back at a few of the people she caught waving at her. In one hand is Nico's leash and in the other it's Jay's hand and this moment had become so perfect; she honestly wouldn't have minded if they just announced their engagement right here, right now. All this moment was missing was Justin and Severide.

Erin watched the crowd; she watched the secret service stand at every point of entrance and exit. She saw everyone standing, she saw a few people pushing in an effort to reach out, to touch one of them as a way to say to others that they had the chance to actually, physically, touch a member of the first family. Erin wouldn't have minded if he only asked. Her father didn't seem to notice; he was talking to the crowd with his loved ones surrounding him. The atmosphere is light. The setting grows in intensity as one guy pushes another and almost like a row of dominoes everyone starts pushing each other. Her father was looking up at the skybox at the time, talking about his ideas for climate change when it happened…when someone managed to get over the barrier that separated the stage from the audience.

It was a man who appeared to be in his mid to late-thirties and he attempted to climb onto the stage, one hand pushing up on the ledge of the stage while the other wrapped around Erin's ankle. Immediately she's caught off guard and gives her ankle a shake in an effort to get him to let go. He doesn't. He pulls. And she falls back, earning a protective growl from Nico and a defensive, boisterous demand from Jay, warning –possibly threatening- the man to let go. He doesn't, at least not immediately, it takes Nico biting his wrist for his grip to loosen and it's Jay that grabs the man by the back of his shirt to pull him up to his feet, "What's your problem man?" He shoves the guy back.

And Erin realizes that her parents are no longer on the stage. She sees his assigned guards escorting him and her mother away despite their protests, despite them calling her name and despite them ordering for their assigned guards to get her away as well.

She had her own guards. And she had Nico and Jay.

"I just…I just wanted your autograph!" The man is out of breath and his wrist is bleeding. He doesn't seem to care that he's dripping blood onto the stage, onto his clothes and onto the magazine he wanted her boyfriend to sign. And Nico is still growling. There is no calming him down, not after witnessing his human hurt, his human on the ground with a look of panic etched out upon her face. She had been caught off guard. And he made her fall, causing a sharp pain to hit her behind the second it made contact with the ground.

The crowd is still loud, arguing and shoving each other and the venue's security takes it upon themselves to calm them down. And her guards had made their way onto the stage, surrounding her and Jay and separating them from the man. He's being arrested, arms drawn behind his back despite the blood trickling down his wrist, "Jay! Jay! I'm a huge fan. Your biggest fan! Can you sign my magazine please? I own a copy of every magazine you've been on!" He was pleading for a signature. He didn't seem to care that he's being arrested and based on the looks on her guards' faces, they weren't planning to cut him any slack.

They didn't play around when it came to Erin. That's something they seem to have in common with Jay and Nico. Halstead got down to his knees to be at her eye level, "Are you okay?" He's ignoring the man's plea, "Does anything hurt?"

"…besides my pride," she tried to crack a joke to lighten the moment but it didn't seem to work, "I don't think," and when she raises her arm to seek assistance to get back onto her feet, she feels a sharp pain, a sort of ache, a stiff, tender throbbing in her left wrist, "ouch," she groans and Jay takes a hold of it, examining with his eyes and caressing it lightly to inspect the damage, "Can you move it?" And she does, it just hurts to do so.

It's not broken. That was ruled out the second Atwater took a look at it. It was sprained. And a sprain usually takes a few days to heal, -thank goodness. She was still seated on the stage, butt and wrist aching as Atwater remained stooped down to her left and Jay to her right. Nico continued to growl, throwing in the occasional bark towards the crowd. It was too much activity and the poor dog couldn't keep up, torn between wanting to protect his human and comfort her.

"It's okay Nico," she tried to comfort him. He was too far away for her to grab. He wasn't in the inner circle her guards had created with their bodies.

"Jay, I came here just for you!" The man exclaimed, struggling unsuccessfully to peer around her guards to see him, "I just want a signature. That's all! Please!"

"Can someone get him the fuck away from us?"

Halstead's face grew red and it didn't take any more prompting before he was escorted away, probably to the nearest jail. Nico had calmed down, only a bit, but enough to weasel himself through the legs of her guards and plop down next to his human. He whined. He whimpered. And he dipped his head and laid it in her lap, snuggling into his human as a way to seek comfort and provide it. Erin smiled, despite sitting on a stage, with her butt and wrist aching while surrounded by her guards. She realized that her heel had come off but she didn't care in that moment to find it.

"What are we waiting for?" Jay was ready to get her out of there. She needed some ice on her wrist that she felt lucky enough had sprained instead of broke. She used her hands to catch her fall but when she landed on her behind, she landed the wrong way on her wrist. It was starting to bruise. And the discoloring was only pissing Jay off more.

"Remember your anger management," she whispered, lifting her good hand to cup the side of his face, "It's okay. I'm okay. They can't move me right now until they know it's no longer a threat. Sometimes movement leaves us the most vulnerable. Either they'll move us when the chaos starts like kind of how they did my parents or they'll hunker around us until it ends." Her guards didn't know the extent of the threat.

"…your wrist," Jay takes a deep breath before releasing it.

"It'll be fine. Nothing a little ice won't fix."

He didn't like to see her hurt regardless of the significance. Jay noticed her bare foot and he reached out to grab the heel that had fallen off. A guy actually grabbed her ankle in an effort to use her body as leverage to climb onto the stage. He shook his head; the things people would seriously do. He sighed and eased her foot back into her heel, "You ready?"

"And this day was going so good," she chuckled dryly.

Erin wrapped her arms around her boyfriend's neck and he lifted her up into his arms. Nico wasn't too happy about the sudden movement. It was hard for him to watch and protect her when she wasn't in his vicinity. Her guards eyed Jay and it was Dawson who spoke first, "We haven't been given orders to move Phoenix yet." He was her guard right now, not her guy.

"I don't care. She needs some ice and ibuprofen."

"Jay…" Roman started, but the first daughter's fiancé had moved past them.

"You can stay here and guard Nico or surround us as we go back stage." He didn't leave much room for argument. Atwater radioed in and whoever spoke on the other end of his earpiece didn't sound too happy if the look on Atwater's face was anything to go by.

Her guards surrounded him as he carried Erin behind stage to be greeted by a paramedic who was on call while the event was taking place. Camille had rushed over to her and even though Erin felt no ill-will towards her parents, she understood how the process work, it didn't stop Jay from avoiding the appreciative look in the eyes of both of her parents.

"Halstead," her father had initiated, extending his hand to give him a shake of gratitude. It was unmet. His hand dangled before Hank had eventually gotten the idea that Jay wasn't going to meet him halfway, "I just wanted to thank you for getting my daughter out of that mess."

"I don't get it," Jay whispered and based on the sound of his voice, Voight's chief of staff had chosen to clear everyone out of the room, leaving behind the paramedic who was examining and icing Erin's wrist, "you just left her out there."

"I'm fine Jay," Erin attempted to console her boyfriend from a few feet away.

Nico now sat at Jay's feet, knowing that he needed the comfort now instead of his other human.

"We wanted to get her but we couldn't," Camille attempted to explain.

"…because of protocol?" Jay asked and both of her parents had nodded, "well then fuck protocol! That's your kid, protocol shouldn't apply to that!" He was unnerved. When it came to Erin Voight's safety, he didn't play around. He didn't care if it was a cut on the chin or a sprained wrist, her safety, protection and comfort were his top priority, -unlike her parents.

"Maybe we should get out of here?" Erin whispered, rising to her feet. The paramedic had wrapped up her wrist and left her with a bag of ice to sit upon it. In two to three days, the swelling should go down. If not, then she's told to go to her primary care physician for an x-ray.

"I just don't get it," Jay retorted, beginning a fast pace back and forth and Nico followed behind him, practically stepping on the ball of his feet, "I get that what happened could have been much worse but at the time we didn't know what was going on! It was chaotic! A man climbed onto the stage and at the time we didn't know what he wanted! And you both just left! She was sitting on the floor and you just left her there! You sir," Jay approached his future father-in-law with a ferocity that had everyone in the room nervous, "have some nerve questioning my love for your daughter when it took you less than five seconds to ditch her on stage, guards or no guards, they weren't there at the time and you just left her there. How dare you undermine my feelings for her? I love your daughter with every part of me and that's not up for debate. You shouldn't question my love for her, _sir_ , but maybe you should question your own!"

And suddenly Jay felt Erin snatch his arm and yank him out of the room. Her dog following. Her guards following. Her parents stayed behind; they were now the ones left speechless backstage.

-x-

With her arm cradled to her chest because -damn it!- it hurts, she appreciates the help that Jay offers her, -even though he does get a little pleasure out of it. Stripping her down that is because she has every intention of soaking in the hotel suite bathtub to wash off the day's events. This day was a catastrophe. She was afraid of turning on the television because she'll only see recorded video of the incident being played over and over again on every news station.

Jay held her good hand as he helped her step into the bubble bath, "Careful, careful," he warned, assisting her as she lowered her naked body into the water. Her right arm remained cradled against her chest. And Jay had offered to join, whether it was good intentions behind it or not, she didn't know, but she turned him down, knowing themselves it'll lead to her further injuring her arm. With his assistance, he strategically tied her hair up into a loose bun to prevent the strands from getting wet. She pushed her back against the wall of the tub and leaned her head back, closing her eyes in order to peacefully take in the silence and relax.

"Did you want to talk about it?" His voice interrupts the silence. And when he takes a seat against the ledge of the tub, she feels forced to reopen her eyes.

"…no, not exactly," she shuts her eyes again.

"You pulled me out of the room pretty fast."

"Well yeah," she scoffed, feeling forced to open her eye and keep them open, "you practically implied to my father that he doesn't love me. Thanks for that by the way; it hurt a bit." She glared at him. And she really wanted him to leave her to her bath.

"I'm sorry," he admitted as the tips of his fingers dipped into the warm water of her bath, "I got angry and spoke without thinking."

"You seem to do that a lot."

Her words kind of stung. It was the truth though and he was trying to better himself; the anger management classes were only helping a little with that. They weren't getting anywhere. She tried to avoid it. She tried to ignore what happened but he was insistent on talking about it so now, here they are, talking about it.

"It was so much going on. It was hectic. I saw you on the floor and your parents go behind stage and I just couldn't believe it. Then that asshole was still shouting for my autograph and Nico had bit him and he wouldn't stop barking and it was just too much and my adrenaline was pumping and maybe I shouldn't have shouted as loud."

"Maybe you should learn how to bite your tongue?"

"I couldn't get past him leaving you there."

"It wasn't by choice," she sits up a little too fast and some of the water spills over the edge, "his guards escorted him away. My mom's guards escorted her away. We have assigned guards for a reason. The number one priority in the room is always to keep POTUS safe. I know that. He knows that. It's how it is. My life wasn't in danger-"

"We didn't know that at the time! We didn't know why he was jumping the stage!" Jay interrupted. He stood up. He was growing agitated.

They weren't getting anywhere. Emotions were still too high. Her wrist was still wrapped up and throbbing. She took a deep breath to calm her emotions, "Babe," she looked up to meet his eyes and suddenly the loose bun came apart, "I appreciate you wanting to protect me, wanting to keep me safe and I hope you never stop. I do. But, that energy needs to be saved and directed towards those who deserve it. My dad didn't deserve that. He already has enough on his plate; he doesn't need the added guilt from what happened. Now," she leans back again and closes her eyes, "if you don't mind, I would love to finish my bath in silence."

He nodded, "O…okay." He moved towards the door and stopped when she called his name.

"I love you and I know all of this takes some getting used to so thank you for sticking through it and not ditching the second things got hard. I know my dad's feelings towards you doesn't make any of this easy, but despite how he feels I'm marrying you, I'm going to marry you. Come early November, I will be walking down that aisle, saying my vows and kissing you so hard that it'll scandalize the minister. I don't care what he says about our relationship. I know you better than he will ever know you. I know you love me. I don't doubt that, okay?"

Jay doesn't verbally answer back. He simply gives her a wistful smile and nods his head. His phone ringing from the other room made for a good excuse to leave the bathroom.

Voight's words had gotten to him, had kind of hurt him if he were being honest. He never wanted his love for Erin to be so unclear that her own father questions it. He thought he made his affection towards his daughter obvious. He put his old ways behind him, he adjusted his behavior and it was all for her. He opened himself up. He made himself vulnerable. He introduced her to his father for Christ sake. He proposed, he committed himself to one person and he was willing to commit himself for the rest of his life to that same woman. He didn't want anyone else.

She was the one, -his one and only.

Jay flopped down onto the king-sized bed and kicked off his shoes. He was still in Cincinnati and he was already ready to go home. He missed his bed in Chicago. He missed his sheets. Even though this hotel room cost a fortune, it wasn't the same. There were guards all lined up in the hallway and her parents' room was two doors down. He was ready to go home, but their next destination was New York for their couple's interview, the same interview that they'll announce their news and it just so happened to fall on the day of their anniversary, well, the anniversary of him literally bumping into her, -not the one where their relationship became official.

He had something planned for her. He just hopes this little incident doesn't kill the mood. It was almost April, her birthday month, and he wanted the entire month of April to go smooth sailing for her. Jay had suddenly realized that by being lost in his thoughts, he had missed his brother's call and without waiting another minute, he called him back. Will answered after the first ring.

"If you're calling to talk to me about what happened at the rally because you saw the news, I don't want to talk about it." Jay states matter of fact.

"I had a feeling you didn't, but just tell me this, is Erin alright?"

Jay nodded, "Yeah, she's fine, a sprained wrist but other than that she's still the same old Erin."

"That's good to hear," Will remarked, sighing in relief, "they have video of it playing on repeat on all major news networks. It was hard not to hear about it. It's trending too. And someone caught a picture of him using the stage and Erin's leg as a means of climbing up and I think it's going to become a meme so prepare for that."

"Why'd you call?" Jay knows his brother; he knows when he's rambling and telling him information he didn't care to hear. Jay could hear Erin humming in the bathroom. He smiles.

"I know you've been stressing about this whole wedding thing," Will starts and Jay is even prepared to interrupt because he hadn't been stressing, at least not about that, "and I know it's pretty soon, I mean, it's less than a year away. Nat and I knew each other longer and were engaged longer and we're not thinking of getting married at least until next May, maybe?" He's going off on a tangent, getting distracted on purpose as a way to postpone what he's trying to say, "but since everything is going pretty quick, I figured I would help you out so as your manager I took it upon myself to get a pre-nup drawn up for you. Mason did most of the work though," Will finished. Mason is the band's entertainment lawyer.

Jay's lack of an immediate response made his brother feel pretty good. He pat himself on the back for taking the initiative to protect his brother in a way that he failed to do so years prior. That is, until Jay finally did say something, "Are you serious?"

"Yeah…but you don't sound too happy."

"…because I'm not," he snapped, trying to keep his voice low so Erin didn't overhear, "Why'd you do that? I don't need a pre-nup, Will!"

"You should be thanking me," Will exclaimed and Jay could hear his brother on the other end of the line starting to pace, "I'm helping you out! It's important to plan for the future!"

"A prenup is in effect if we get a divorce! A divorce isn't in our fucking future!"

"You don't know that! It wouldn't hurt to sign it just in case! You've worked too hard to lose everything because you're listening to one head and not the other," Will snapped and his growing rage is equal to his brother's building anger. He was close to saying screw his anger management classes. All that he learned was going out of the window.

"Erin isn't some bitter woman who will take everything from me."

"I'm just trying to protect you financially and all that you've built over the years."

"I don't need protection, not from Erin," he defended, "and a prenup will be pointless because when we get married, it's going to last. I can't see myself with anyone else."

"Just hear me out-"

Jay didn't need to, "Are you making Natalie sign one?"

"I don't have nearly as much money as you do."

"…so the answer is no."

"Jay-"

He didn't want to hear it. He knew at any moment Erin would be out of the bathroom and the last thing he wanted was for her to hear his brother's bogus idea so Jay chose to nip this in the bud immediately, "Will," he growled under his breath, "You better not bring this up to Erin. I swear… The subject is over. The case is closed. I'm not signing anything and neither is she. Tear it apart. Shred it. We don't need an agreement to determine our assets if we were to end up divorced because that's not going to happen. We won't be getting a divorce because we're it for each other. What's mine is hers and she would say the same vice versa. Get rid of that Will and if I catch you trying to force her or talk her into signing it then the day of my wedding you can stay home and look for yourself another job."


	47. Breaking News

It's April, -a week since the events at the rally, a week since they broke the news of their engagement to her parents and a week since Jay had even spoken to her father. Voight is a stubborn man, so he's been told, but that much was obvious when the remainder of their stay in Cincinnati was filled with the president ignoring his presence, refusing to meet his eyes and pretending as if he didn't exist. This was not how either one of them planned for the announcement of their engagement; it was supposed to be a joyous occasion, filled with celebration, laughter and hugs. Instead it was filled with silent treatments and shunning.

Jay was grateful to be gone.

He was happy to be on a first class flight departing from Cincinnati and flying to New York. He may have been tired of traveling but if it meant he was putting miles and distance between him and the leader of the free world, then he'll take it.

His brother, Nat and the band were all flying from Chicago to meet them in New York. He needed their help for her surprise. He wanted to make this engagement announcement special; he wanted to make this moment memorable for her in every way possible. Jay couldn't stop the smile from stretching across his face. He was truly a lucky man. And as the king in her life, there was nothing he wasn't willing to do for his queen.

With the travel pillow wrapped around his neck, he comfortably rested the side of his head against the fluff of it. The extra leg room was perfect enough for him to stretch out. He had sunglasses on even though he didn't need them. It was more so a preventative measure to make him unrecognizable. Little good that did because the second he stepped into the airport, people were all over him. At least he got to board early. He opened his eyes to see her tray table down and a notepad opened up, "What are you doing?"

"My mom gave me this notebook," she closed it to flash him the front cover of it, "it's for wedding ideas. My mom is taking her job pretty serious. She wants this filled out by my birthday. She even made little notes inside of the things we already said we wanted."

"What kinds of questions are left unanswered?" He unbuckled his seatbelt and sat up.

"…the color of my dress," she read the next question on the list, "and I'm thinking white and I know that's a pretty traditional color but when I see myself getting married, I see myself in white."

"Then white it is," he leaned forward to watch her jot it down, "you might as well write down gray for me, I'm going for a straight gray tux, maybe the shirt is white but the suit, yeah that's gotta be gray." She chuckled as she wrote it down.

"I don't want to wear a bridal headpiece or a veil or even any bridal gloves. That's too old-fashioned for me," she marked the no box.

Jay leaned his chin onto his fiancée's shoulder to watch as she wrote down the answer to some of the things they've discussed the night before, -budget, location, assigned seating, time of year, open bar, type of vows, plated meals, and bouquet toss. This was the perfect way to organize her thoughts and ideas especially since her wedding planner is miles away.

"My mom says we should make a gift registry but I was thinking that we just get everyone to donate to a charity or an organization in our honor."

Jay nods, "That's a good idea." He remained resting against her side, being mindful of her healing wrist that was still wrapped up with an elastic bandage. The pain wasn't as intense or as bad as it was a few days ago but he still wanted her to be careful.

"I just figure that anything specifically that we need, we can just buy it ourselves."

"What's the next question?"

"Wine?" A flight attendant interrupts, moving the wine cart towards the high profile couple. Her eyes flashed downwards towards the opened notebook on the tray table and Erin strategically moved her arms to cover it up, "and if I can make a recommendation then-"

"We're good," Jay responds, looking up to meet her eyes and give her a charming grin, "we'll pass on the wine. Thanks though." Halstead looks back down at the covered wedding planner and it didn't take long for the flight attendant to get the hint, -she's been dismissed.

"How many people are we looking to invite?" Erin kept her voice low to ensure that she wasn't overheard, "we should probably start working on that guest list." She flips to the back of the book where there are blank pages, "my parents and brother, of course. There's Severide and who I hope is his date, -Stella. I have to invite Mrs. Clarke and my boss. That's seven people right there, actually eight because I want Mrs. Clarke to bring her husband."

"And we have my brother, Nat, Mouse, Rixton, Ruzek and Burgess, oh and Mouse's girlfriend Hallie so that's like 15. I'm not inviting my dad or his wife."

"I don't think I want to invite Annie," Erin admitted. She had been jotting down all of the names as they listed them out loud, "Olinsky and Meredith too."

"…the vice president and his wife?"

"Do you know anyone else with the last name Olinsky?" She chuckled and added their names to the list for the purpose of a headcount; they didn't need a background check, "that's 17."

"What about your guys?"

"Oh, they'll be there regardless. I really don't need to add them to the headcount."

"We have to invite Sarah and Mason too so it bumps the number up to 19." That's the band's hair and makeup artist and their entertainment lawyer.

"20. Platt is my dad's campaign manager. She gets an invite. She's saved my ass on more than one occasion so I can't imagine not inviting her. Lord knows I haven't made her job easy."

Halstead's eyes scanned the list of names. He only hoped that he wasn't forgetting anyone. It was going to be a small wedding, that much was obvious by the list of names, but since it'll be outside, there was nothing stopping civilians from approaching the white house gate to peer through and observe the wedding from a distance. She didn't mind them participating and the more he thought about it, neither did he. It felt somewhat patriotic.

"What about that author friend of yours? The one you've been keeping in contact with."

She knew immediately who he was referring to, "Garrett Frazier and his wife, Diane. Yes, how could I forget them? Okay that makes 22. Oh and I have to invite Peter Stone too."

"…your ex?" Jay sat up straight.

"I wouldn't really call him that. We never dated."

"No, you just slept together twice."

"He's in a relationship and he helped recommend a really good lawyer for you," she defended.

Jay shook his head, "…but you slept with him. He's seen you naked. I can't get that image out of my head," he shivered at the thought of someone else having the pleasure of seeing his girl reach her peak, "how would you feel if I invited someone I slept with?"

"The people you slept with were one night stands, they were never friends."

"I don't want him at the wedding."

Erin grumbled, "Let's save this conversation and pick up on it later." She rolled her eyes and drew an asterisk beside his name.

By the time they finished the list, there were 52 names written. The last 30 of them were celebrities they know, politicians, foreign dignitaries and ambassadors and a few television interviewers they've befriended over the years. It was a list that was close to being ready to be sent to her mother, if only they could find some middle ground when it comes to her old friend Peter.

"I just don't get why he can't come," she says just as the fasten seatbelt sign lights up, "he's a friend of mine," she buckles the safety belt, "we're strictly platonic. He's happy in his relationship and I am ecstatically happy in mine. His presence won't change anything."

Jay noticed the wrinkle in her brow, "Babe, you got to see it from my perspective," He reached over to smooth it out, "he constantly flirts with you."

"He flirts with anything with a pulse wearing six inch stilettos," Erin retorted, rolling her eyes "and please fasten your seatbelt. Let's just drop it for now and get back to this. We're looking to invite somewhere between 50 and 60 people." She wrote that down, face scrunched up in thought as she moved on to the next question, "the white house cooks will cater our wedding. It's kind of hard to hire an outside catering service to bring inside a building with top security. They'll bake the cake too. We'll just tell them what kind of cake and our vision for it; same with the plated food. I'm thinking we keep it simple for the two options: chicken and fish."

"I don't really care about what we serve."

She blew a breath out, "What do you care about? How about you be in charge of that so it doesn't feel like I'm doing all the work?"

"I'll take charge on getting the marriage license."

"We both have to do that. Pick something else," she tapped the back of her pen against the notebook, "You're already in charge of the obvious meaning your tux and the tuxes for your groomsmen so don't choose that."

"Have you always been this bossy?"

"…since I was born," she flipped the page in the notebook.

"I don't want to pick a category because if I do then you'll just make me pick something else."

Erin's grip tightened around the pen. She wanted to throw it. She probably would have if she wasn't on a plane and it could be mistaken for something more dangerous than a simple black ink pen. Instead, she slammed the pen down and leaned back just as the plane started to rock. No one has ever said planning a wedding would be easy. And no one has ever compared turbulence to a massage chair. She was either going to have back or neck problems when this ride is over.

"Jay, can you please just pick something?"

"Fine, I'll do," he leans forward to scan the opened notebook for a category, "the invitations."

"How about you be in charge of the travel accommodations for our guests?"

He rolled his eyes, "fine," he accepted without an argument.

"That means finding and booking hotels for our out of town guests and maybe hiring chauffeurs or something to drive them to the white house."

Jay leaned his head back and shut his eyes. The neck pillow remained. He reopened his eyes and watched her in his peripheral as the pilot came over the speaker to tell everyone to put their tray tables back in place. With a loud sigh, she locked it and moved the notebook to her lap, "I don't think we need a flower girl and if we did no one has any daughters. I don't think we need a ring bearer either, whoever you decide to be your best man can hold them."

The turbulence on the plane increased, bumping and shaking the plane in all directions. Her hands gripped the arms of her seat and she soon enough felt a cushion wrap around her neck when she realized that Jay had removed the travel pillow from his own, "I figured it's your turn."

"Thank you," she whispered, leaning over to brush her lips against his.

"Ma'am," the flight attendant interrupted, tapping Erin on the shoulder, "we need you to face forward. There's no time for that." She turned around and walked away.

"Should we get back to wedding planning?"

"I thought we hired your mother to handle all of this."

Erin laughed and readjusted the travel pillow, "She's doing the work of getting it all done. She just needs to know our ideas. Now, I'm thinking for flowers we stick to white lilies and maybe we can throw in some flowers in whatever color scheme we choose, but the white lilies will be the dominant flower. Those have a special meaning in our relationship," Jay nodded his agreement, "and we should pick a color scheme and since we're going with the white lilies and my dress will be white, I was thinking we stick to the white and add in maybe a frost, a blush and a boysenberry. It's such a pretty color scheme that I'm sure my mother's imagination will do wonders with it."

"I have no idea what any of those colors are besides white and maybe blush."

"Remind me to show you when we land."

Halstead nods, watching her write it down. Her hand writing wasn't as legible due to the turbulence continually inflicting upon the plane ride. He honestly didn't care what color scheme they went with, whatever made her happy, he would immediately agree with it. If she wanted white, frost, blush and boysenberry then those colors they will have.

"What about-"

"Can we please take a break? I think my head's going to explode if we start talking about fabric patterns or something else wedding related."

She chuckled and shut the notebook, "Fine," she slipped the book in the pocket behind the seat in front of her, "how are you feeling about the interview tomorrow?" It was booked for tomorrow morning. It's less than 24 hours before the world will know, before the secret is no longer kept between them and close friends and family.

"It'll be just like any other television interview."

Erin shrugged and raised the arm rest that separated their seats, "I haven't done one in years."

"You won't be alone up there. I'll be with you."

Her hand comes to rest upon his chest, twirling and playing with the buttons, "Yeah, I find comfort in that. I know you'll have my back if we don't get the reaction we're hoping for or if the interview takes a left turn and they start asking questions we didn't approve."

"I hate when they do that." He feels her nod her head against his chest. He leans down to kiss the top of her head, "it pisses me off when I feel caught off guard and cornered. I can't imagine how it'll feel if they do that to you with me sitting right next to you."

She pecked his chest, "You better not hit them," her words were a little muffled by his shirt, "you are still on probation and speaking of that, you still have more modules to finish."

Erin found herself drifting off against the comfort of his chest. Her hand held a tight grip around the fabric of the front of his shirt. His arm was wrapped around her shoulders, holding her tight enough to secure her to her seat and his chest. He couldn't stop kissing the top of her head. He couldn't stop touching her. He kissed her again. Jay eventually tilted his head back and thought to himself about the next few months. It was going to be filled with so much that any amount of free time seemed nonexistent. A few days after their interview in New York, they have to fly back to Chicago to put the tickets that Erin bought for him in the auction last year to good use. It was for a Cubs game, -his favorite sport and his favorite team. God, he loved her.

-x-

Erin couldn't stop rubbing her throbbing wrist. For some reason it ached a little bit more right now than it did earlier in the day. Maybe it was the stress? Her nerves were getting to her. She couldn't stop tapping her feet against the ground. She could hear the seats fill up with audience members. She had just finished in the makeup chair; she was currently sitting in another chair, getting her hair done. She knows the stylist wants to yank her hair and maybe shout a few choice words because Erin could not keep still. She wasn't intentionally trying to be difficult but the way her empty stomach was turning; her forehead was sweating –though it was hidden by the chalk full of makeup- and the way her anxiety showed through her restless legs bouncing up and down showed that she had no control over how she felt right now.

She's stress eating. She pulled a grape off the vine in the fruit basket situated on her lap. It was brought in by the staff; actually the whole assortment of food lining the table in the far corner was brought in to welcome her and Jay. They were happy to have them and Erin tried to say she was happy to be here but the closer it got to the next hour; the more she wanted to retreat. What was going on? She has made a career out of public speaking. This wasn't like her.

"Wow you look gorgeous," Jay complimented as he approached.

She popped another grape into her mouth and then another and then another.

"Whoa, slow down," he chuckled, reaching out to take the fruit basket from her, "I don't need you choking before we make our on-air debut."

The hair dresser silently watches the two of them interact as he tames the flop of tangled hair on the head of the first daughter. He whispered for her to look down, gently pushing her head downwards so he can finish up. Erin no longer has the bowl of fruit to kind of, sort of, help with taming her nerves. Now, she's tapping her fingers against the arm of the chair and squirming every time she felt a little heat from the hair straightener touch her neck.

"Hey," Jay stooped low to try and meet her eyes; it was hard considering she had to keep her head tilted forward to ensure she didn't get burned, "are you okay?" He sets his hand on her knee. The hair stylist is watching, so intently, that in his 20 years of styling hair, he burns someone for the first time. She shouts and hops out the chair, hand going to the back of her neck to rub the searing pain away, "damn it!"

Her guards approach and she raises her hand for them to cease and go back to their positions. It was an accident, one that was brought on by her inability to keep still and the hair stylist inability to pay attention when there's a hot rock star in the room.

"I'm sorry Ms. Voight."

"No," she said through gritted teeth, "I get it. Why pay attention to me when he's standing right there?" She was a bit snappy today. It was the nerves. Her worry came out as anger. Erin snatched the bowl of fruit from Jay and walked over to the food table.

"Mr. Halstead, I-"

Jay doesn't stick around to hear the end of his apology. He had someone who needed him, someone important. He walks off, only stopping when his pathway is blocked by other members of the staff holding out napkins, papers and magazines that they wanted to get signed. He takes the pen, scribbling his name or a variation of it onto whatever was held out in front of him. He never pulled his eyes away from Erin, watching her stuff her face with the food from the platter of fruits and vegetables. He never finished signing their autographs; instead, he maneuvered through them, not excusing himself because they had initially interrupted him.

"Babe," he tugs on her arm, gently turning her to face him.

"We'll be on the air in ten minutes!" The announcement seemed to interrupt her racing thoughts. She sat the fruit bowl down and began to inhale and exhale deep, even breaths.

"Babe," he starts up again but this time she interrupts.

"Since we're doing plated meals at the wedding, I was thinking we offer two options, one chicken and one salmon. We can offer an array of sides dishes, maybe, and they can choose two, one starch and one vegetable. How does that sound?" She's rambling. She always does this when she's nervous.

"That sounds good, but-"

"Great," she scurries away, going over to where they sat their belongings to pull out the wedding planner notebook to jot it down, "I'll text my mother once this is over."

"…but babe, why-"

"When should we send out invitations?"

"We can just let your mother decide on that once we know all who we're inviting. Erin, what's going on? You're rambling and you can't keep still and not to mention you're stress-eating."

"…at least I'm stress-eating fruits and vegetables instead of cake and wine."

"What's going on?"

"It's nothing…"

"No, we're not doing that, remember?" He reaches for the chain wrapped around her neck, lifting it and dropping it to dangle above her dress, "that's one of the main reasons we're not doing that. So, tell me babe, what's going on?"

"I'm just nervous. You know this."

"Yeah," he nods, "but you're a pro at this kind of stuff."

"No, I'm a pro at teaching, at stating facts, but I'm not a pro at talking about my personal life in front of thousands and millions of people. It's too early for this. And now we have," she looks up at the clock, "almost five minutes until we go out there."

"Do you want me to cancel this? We can keep it to ourselves a little longer. Or we can just post it on social media? We can do whatever you want."

"We're already here. We're about to go on. The crowd is out there, the hosts are literally out there right now talking to the audience and giving them a run down on the episode."

"I don't care about any of that. I just care about you."

And that was all she needed to hear before nodding, "Okay, we're going to do this." He smiled, knowing that she could never renege on her word, "That's my girl."

Jay stood in front of her, peering down into the eyes of the woman who claimed his heart. He raised his hand, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear. The front of her hair was pinned back and the rest of her hair curtained around her shoulders. The strand of hair that he pushed away had fallen from the pin-up and when she realized that one piece of hair on her head was out of place, she immediately moved from his arms and walked up to the lighted mirror. The bulbs circled around the mirror and when she leaned in to fix the one strand of hair, she saw him approach from behind. Wrapping his arms around her waist, his chest pressed against her back and his lips hovered above her ear, he whispered, "Just leave it, you look perfect."

"I don't need to give anyone any reason to talk about me." She swats him away. It's hard to focus on fixing her hair when he's standing so close.

"The stylist did an amazing job on your hair," he complimented, moving back towards her, "No one's going to talk about it."

"Girls are mean, Jay." She removed a bobby-pin from her hair before reapplying it, making sure that the loose strand was firmly tucked back in, "and boys criticize. And the two combined can be pretty demeaning especially when it comes to celebrities. We're judged harder as if we're not humans with flaws. And trust me, now that you're officially about to become off the market permanently, they're going to be examining me pretty closely under a microscope."

"I'm going to be judged too, Erin. Do you think someone with my reputation can just announce they're marrying you without some type of backlash?"

She grabbed for her clutch, popping it open to grab her lipstick, "It's a difference. Fans can be blindly loyal and aggressively territorial. I don't have fans, I have people that like and respect me because of who my father is or because of my career and philanthropy," she reapplied her cherry red lipstick, "politicians don't care. They'll make passive-aggressive comments but that'll be the end of it. Fans though, they latch on to their favorite celebrity like a cult and when someone jeopardizes, contradicts or hurts the image they have of their favorite celebrity then the claws come out. And Jay, your image was formed around being a _single_ , sexy, _available_ , _bachelor_ and now that you won't be three of those things anymore, they're going to need some time to get used to that. Not everyone likes change."

He smirked and leaned forward to press his forehead against hers, "aw, you think I'm sexy." She rolled her as she tossed her lipstick back into her clutch. He completely missed the point.

A silence falls between them. He's looking down at her and she's looking up at him when there's a tap on his shoulder and a command that orders them to walk out onto the stage. Neither of them rush, instead, Jay remains facing her smiling until he extends his hand, "Are you ready?"

"No," she blew out a puff of breath, "but let's go and get this over with." She takes his hand and the two of them walk out onto the stage, waving their free hands as the audience and the hosts of the show rise to their feet and applaud. It was a lively audience. The crowd was hooting and hollering and sticking two fingers into their mouths to whistle.

Jay leads her to the high chairs that circle around the high, semi-circle table. He pulls her seat out first and helps her climb onto it before he takes the seat next to her. The crowd is still clapping and if it weren't for the hosts they would probably continue to clap for a standing ovation. Erin is smiling, masking the nerves that are slowly disappearing the longer she's in front of the crowd. She feels Jay's hand settle on her knee and for some reason that does the trip that rids her of the remaining nerves that's been floating around her belly.

"I'm so glad that you two are here! And Erin, that dress you're wearing is everything!"

"Thank you so much," Erin says and the small microphone that's clipped to her dress makes her voice louder and carry around the room, "and it feels great to be here."

"This is your first couple's interview on television," the two of them nod at one of the host's words, "how does it feel? Is it different than interviewing with your bandmates?"

"Yes," Jay answered without giving the question any thought, "it's completely different."

"…how so?"

"I have to stay focused, she's a distraction, a very beautiful one at that."

The audience swooned. It was everyone's first time seeing them interact, most of the time it was quick glances caught through photos but this was live and this was real and the chemistry was thick enough to cut through it with a knife. The conversation led into how they met, how Jay bumped into her that day outside of the coffee shop. They shared stories of their dates, of how her secret service third wheels and how they managed to maintain a strong and solid relationship despite the distance and their busy work schedules.

"Erin, how's your dad?"

"He's good," Erin smiled, "he's been busy." That was obvious.

"I can only imagine how running a country and running a campaign for re-election can keep someone occupied," the third host added, as Erin nodded in acknowledgement, "now, let's get to the questions that District 21 fans have posted on our webpage for us to ask."

Some of the questions they didn't mind answering. Who was the first person to say I love you? Whose idea was it to get Nico? How is Jay's relationship with the first lady? With Justin? With Voight? That last one they provided such a vague response. "It's interesting," Erin answered, trying to keep it as close to the truth as possible.

Other questions, they skirted around or waved their hand to pass it. Neither wanted to answer questions related to a few choice subjects: Jay's arrest, their sex life and their former relationships. Some of the interviewers had even asked questions, expecting to not receive an answer, only to be surprised when one of them did answer. Those questions in particular related to his reputation, or to be more specific his past reputation, "So Erin, what made you want to take a chance on him? Considering his reputation, what made you throw caution to the wind?"

"I got to see all sides of Jay. I saw him in his personal and professional life. I've been rewarded the chance to really get to know him, more than anyone ever will and if anyone ever got that chance with their significant other then they'll understand why I threw caution to the wind. He's more than the reputation, he's more than the names people give him, he's so complex and the fact that he opened himself up and allowed me to see that, I'm forever grateful and forever in love." The audience clapped at her words. The hosts all smiled. Jay squeezed her knee.

"And you," another host turned to face Jay, "going into a relationship with the first daughter could not have been easy! What was that like?"

"It's pretty interesting," the audience chuckled, "there's never a dull moment, between her guards babysitting our public dates, being regularly mentioned on political news channels and even having your relationship picked and prodded because you're dating another celebrity and not another every day person. That doesn't just happen to people like me. It's a lot to get used to but if you find someone that makes it all worth it, then that stuff just seems mediocre."

Small talk passed through and the questions that were submitted by fans and viewers of the show were asked and answered. The time slot was slowly coming to an end which meant only one thing. It was time. Without anyone noticing because the show was on commercial break and hair and makeup rushed onto the stage to touch them all up, she pulled the chain that held her engagement ring from around her head. She slipped it onto her finger with the only person noticing being her fiancé. He notices every little thing she does.

The moment the commercials had ceased and the show started back up, it was like they never took a break at all. It picked up right where they left off. Only this time, Erin's hands are purposely above the table and Jay is clearing his throat. The hosts were about to introduce his band, -something that Erin knew nothing about- but he chimed in before they could. It wasn't time yet. The audience was clapping at a statement one of the hosts had said in reference to thanking the couple for allowing them to host their first interview together when Jay interrupted.

"We have a special announcement to make," Jay spoke up, covering his fiancée's small hand with his own larger one, "and we felt since this was our first public interview that this would be the best place to announce it." The hosts were caught off guard but showed way too much excitement at the prospect of having their show be the place where such a prominent couple will release news to the world for the first time. It would do wonders for their ratings.

"We're all ears."

"You have the floor."

"You have our undivided attention."

The words floated around the table as the hosts pushed for them to announce their big news.

"It's been so hard to hide this," Erin chuckled to lighten the atmosphere. Everyone was hanging onto each of their words, leaning forward in their seat to listen closely, "but it's time."

Jay nods his agreement.

There's a moment of pause as if they both were changing their mind, but they've made it too far. It was now or never or sometime in the distant future. Jay pulled his hand from the top of hers, revealing the sparkling engagement ring to the hosts and then the audience and then the world as he supplied the words they now expected to hear, "We're engaged."

As the viewers watch, they bless the cameramen and angles for zooming in on the large engagement ring. There's a moment of pause, a moment where silence envelopes the room that makes Erin feel nauseous enough that she wishes she didn't stuff her mouth with grapes minutes ago. It was going to come up if someone didn't say something. And just as her stomach began to turn, the hosts started clapping and choruses of congratulations were echoed throughout the studio, being shouted from the audience and from the staff backstage.

"You all heard it here first folks!" A host exclaimed, looking directly into the camera, "which leads us to another surprise. Jay and his band will be performing a song that we've never heard of before, a bonus song on their new album." As the host starts to introduce it, subconsciously paying attention to the time because with the announcement of the proposal, they decreased the allotted time he had to introduce the band. Jay gets up, kisses the temple of his fiancee's head before taking large strides towards the stage. Erin looks confused. She didn't know this was happening. She watched as the curtain lifted, she watched as her boyfriend approached the microphone and lifted up his electric guitar and she listened as he introduced a song that she knew before hearing, it was going to be her favorite, "I hope you like this baby. This is Erin's song." She hears him start to strum the notes of a song, a beat that sounds familiar because a few months ago, while sitting naked on his lap, he taught her the beginning keys of it.

This melody, oh so sweet, fills her heart with a sensation that she's never felt before, that she's never known was possible to feel. She closes her eyes and allows the melody to take over, to guide her in rocking side to side until the first words are sung, _One day I looked up at the stars at night, I counted each one I saw in sight, wanting to match each one with a reason why I love you but there was a reason that plan didn't go through._

 _I ran out of stars. It limited me to only a few lyrical bars. To only name a few reasons why I love you when my love for you is endless._

 _I love you, Erin. This is your song._

 _One day I looked out at the ocean, crying as I was filled with so much emotion. I love you baby and I always will, never stopping until you find the tears that dropped into that sea of feels._

 _You fill all the dark places in my heart. I can't ever go on spending life a part. If you look into my eyes then you'll find me. If you look into my heart then you'll find you. How did a guy like me get so lucky to be able to build a life with a girl like you?_

 _I love you, Erin. This is your song._

 _I smile for no reason. I laugh and I joke. My joy lasts every season. And I experience so many feelings that you are able to evoke._

 _I could hold you forever. I could love you for eternity. A life without you, isn't life at all._ _I love you, Erin. I love you, Erin. This is your song. I love you._

This was the favor he asked of the band. He needed them to fly out to New York and perform Erin's song with him.

She blinked through the tears that filled her eyes, suppressing the emotion that desperately wanted to seep out. She knew one of the cameras were on her, documenting every reaction that crossed her face. She heard an audio fill the room, playing out a background conversation, a background voicemail that she left him months ago. She was expressing her love for him and at hearing that he saved it, she rose to her feet and departed from the table, briskly walking over to the stage and jumping onto it to throw her arms around his neck. She didn't care that the song wasn't over, she couldn't stop herself from running into his arms and if there was anyone that could interrupt a song titled Erin's song, it's Erin herself.

She kissed him long and hard. She kissed him with such passion that she ignored the round of applause that filled the room. She pushed her tongue into his mouth, battling for dominance as he struggled to take control of the kiss. She loved the song. It turned her on. She pulls away only to catch her breath before continuing the assault, peppering kisses against his face like they weren't being watched by millions of viewers.

"That was beautiful," she whispered against his lips. Her chest is pressed against his and she's kissing him again. She can't keep her hands off of him, "I think we should get back to the hotel before we give the world a sight they'll never forget." That's all he needed to hear before taking a large step back to put distance between them, a safe distance that would ensure that his hands didn't wander and he didn't strip her out of that dress and plunge into her right on this stage. He overheard her thank his band, and each one of the members gave her a hug just as the show cut to commercial break.

Neither of them waited to hear the congratulations, neither of them wanted to go out to celebrate and neither of them stayed behind to hear the staff toast to them. Jay bid his band farewell, citing that he'll see them in a few days before grabbing the hand of his fiancée and telling her guards to get them back to the hotel as soon as possible. For the next few days, they would be locking themselves in the hotel room, placing the do not disturb sign on the door as they celebrated all that life had to offer.

-x-

Jay held her closer and longer than he would most mornings. It was the day before they are scheduled to go back to Chicago. It was the anniversary of the day they had bumped into each other; it was the anniversary of the first day that his life tilted on its axis and changed for the better. This day was about them, which is why the night before, he silenced his phone and told her to do the same. The tips of his fingers ran up and down her bare arm as the blanket that covered them draped around his waist. She was asleep. Sleeping peacefully as he hoped her dreams soothed her of the stress involved in planning their wedding.

He exhausted her over the last couple of days. He tired her out with the new positions, with the endurance he held and with the amount of coffee they managed to get delivered to their room.

He dipped his face and nuzzled it into the top of her head, into her hair. She smelled amazing.

His girl. He smiles at the thought that in just a few months she'll become his wife.

And he, her husband.

That same cell phone he silenced the night before, he grabbed from his nightstand. He wanted to post a photo of her. And he realized as he scrolled through Instagram that most of his photos were either of her by herself, the two of them together or Nico. Who could blame him though? When you have your whole world with you, then no one could fault him for wanting to share that. He scrolled through some of his notifications, grinning as A and B list celebrities commented their congratulations on the last photo he posted –two weeks ago- of them in Chicago on date night. He saw comments from people he didn't know, wishing them a happy and prosperous marriage. And Jay knows that if Erin were awake to see the few sour comments in the barrel of sweet ones, she would tell him to ignore them. They're not important. Those comments do not affect them or their lives in any way, shape or form.

But, he couldn't. He hit reply and the person's Instagram name automatically held the 'at' symbol. He reread their comment, - _he could do so much better_ \- and he responded, - _do you remember when I asked for your opinion? No, yeah, well neither do I. No need to respond to this. Consider yourself blocked. Have the life you deserve._

And he followed through on his threat. He blocked her before moving on to the next comment, rotating between thanking people for their thoughtful words and defending the honor of the woman cuddled up against his side. He brushed his lips across her forehead and used his free hand to run his fingers through the long strands of her hair. He found himself passing the time by liking different comments from fans and celebrities in support of their engagement.

 _You guys are couple goals!_

He liked that one.

 _Just by the way you look at her, it's obvious just how much she means to you._

He commented on that one; this time choosing to add three thumbs up emojis in agreement.

 _Ugh, why can't you notice me?_

Heat blew out of his nose as he chuckled shortly at that. He took the teenage girl out of her misery and commented, _consider yourself noticed._

He's never interacted with this fans this much. His interactions with them have always been limited; they occurred more so when he was cornered on the street unexpectedly or when he occasionally held his hand out towards the audience to allow them to touch his fingers. He rarely commented back on social media to people he didn't know, at least until she came into his life. He remembers sometime last year when she was sorting through her fan mail, and he remembers how she explained to him her intent on responding back to some of the letters because something so small can mean everything to someone else. He only hoped his comment did that to her.

 _I don't approve of this!_

He scoffed, … _well it's a good thing we don't need it_

 _That dress she's wearing is very distasteful and not at all cute. I expected more from someone who prides herself on being a role model._

He quickly scrolled up to glance at the photo. Her dress was perfect. It was a knee-length, halter neck, burgundy dress and she looked fucking amazing in it. A bun sat high atop her head and she was drop dead gorgeous. He once again takes a glance towards his fiancée. It didn't matter what she was wearing or how she looked, she always looked sexy.

He hit reply a little harder than necessary, _You want to know what else is distasteful? Commenting on my fucking post and giving an opinion that no one asked for._

He takes a pause and clicks on her name to load up her profile page. It's not private. He spots her, a woman in her mid-forties that proudly claims on her bio that she's born and raised in Iowa, has been married for twenty years and is the mother of three 'beautiful angels.' Those were her words, not his. He clicks back over to his page and resumes commenting.

 _And maybe instead of worrying about what my fiancée is wearing, how about you be a better fucking role model for your kids? Now get off my fucking page and have a nice day._

Jay took a deep breath after the post was sent. He knew it was going to be screenshot. He didn't have to curse so many times but it felt warranted. Where do people get off on insulting others? Why are people so brave to do it behind a screen? Jay had half a mind to go back and ask the woman to come and say that to his face…or maybe the face of his girlfriend –Erin could fight her own battes; she didn't need his help. But, he knew that would never happen. She wouldn't get close enough to say anything in Erin's face. She would probably be too much of a coward to do it anyway. He wasn't promoting violence, far from it, but Jay just wanted these people to stop. It's why he doesn't like reading the comments under his posts in the first place.

To take his mind off the rude woman's comment, he clicks over to his photo stream, scrolling through the endless supply of photographs that held his best girl as the model. He taps on one and immediately posts it, - _My favorite distraction_

He goes back to his photo stream and taps another; this one specifically was of the two of them together. Her face was buried in the crook of his neck and her arms were wrapped around his waist. His were wrapped around hers. He didn't post this one right away. He had to think and contemplate on a good caption before he realized that the longer he thought, the more he knew he had to speak without thinking. That's never been good. That's always gotten him into trouble.

 _If there's one person I'll fight for, die for, kill for, it's her. You come for her, you come for me. You insult her, you insult me. For all you critics and for all you guys dishing out insults behind a computer screen, fuck you._

This is why he was supposed to stay off his phone. He drops it onto his nightstand and swaps it for the wedding planning notebook, deciding to calm his building anger by reading the additional answers they wrote down the night before. The white house staff will be paid overtime because they'll be serving as bartenders and servers during the wedding and reception. It makes things easier. It means less background checks since the staff already passed theirs when they were hired. Secret service will be security which went without saying and noting in the notebook. The dishes and glassware will be provided by the white house since they possess some of the fanciest china. The white house will also be providing the white chairs for the guests. Her mother is taking care of getting the unity candle and supplying a guest book and pen for all the attendees to write down their well wishes to the bride and groom.

Jay flips the page. He sees where she scribbled down that the presidential photographer will be taking professional shots on the day of their wedding of the ceremony and the reception. He takes the best photos and comes highly recommended which makes sense considering the subject of all his photos is the president of the United States. Her mother also has every intention of hiring a videographer even though Jay and Erin didn't particularly care if they had one or not. It only made Camille disclose what was supposed to be a surprise, -she wanted to make a video photo album of the day. It brought a smile onto Erin's face and they had spent majority of the night discussing how amazing her mother is before choosing quickly to drop the subject of her mother as things started to escalate between them on a more personal, passionate and naked level. That moment was shared until the next day, hours before the sun had come up, but the next day nonetheless. If all his nights were spent like that, he could only foresee a splendid marriage.

"I want to take engagement photos, professional ones," Erin cleared her throat and whispered.

He shut the book and set it back down, "How long have you been awake?" Her eyes were still closed; she tried to open them but the sunlight outside was too bright.

"…a few minutes," she answered, rolling over to the other side of the bed, "but I was serious, I want to take engagement photos." She reached over to grab her phone off the nightstand when she notices it. There's a large vase placed on her nightstand with around three dozen white lilies carefully trimmed, propped and seated in it.

"If that's what the lady wants, then that's what the lady gets."

"…Jay," she reaches for them but they're too heavy to pick up. She's actually surprised that the end table was able to hold the weight, "these are beautiful."

"I got them to commemorate the anniversary of when we bumped into each other." He wanted to do something small, nothing that was over the top since it wasn't the biggest anniversary of them all. He had ordered them the night before and hid them in his closet, choosing to pull them out the second she fell asleep. It was a gift for the both of them. White lilies had a special meaning to their relationship and he wanted to keep the white flowers symbolic.

"I love them," she unlocks her phone to take a picture of the gift, "I love you." She ignores the endless stream of messages and notifications in order to text her mother.

Erin shot a text off to her mother, showing her the beautiful vase of flowers that she knows Camille would absolutely fawn over while also requesting that she seek a photographer to take professional engagement photos of the two of them. How does the saying go? She's killing two birds with one stone, -figuratively speaking of course. As she read through the follow-up text messages her mother had sent her around the crack of dawn, she read pretty loudly, "don't forget that you're in charge of getting the entertainment…"

This was news to him, "Don't forget? How could I forget something that you never told me to do?" He rolled over to spoon her from behind, his chin rested upon her shoulder as he read the texts on her screen. It was by her mother's request. Camille had assigned him to entertainment.

"I think she figured that since your profession is in musical entertainment that you would be the right one for the job," Erin assumed. And she had to hand it to her mother, it made perfect sense, she doesn't know why she didn't think of it first.

He kissed the crook of her neck, "Can't your brother do it?"

"Trust me," he could feel her body vibrate in laughter, "you don't want my brother in charge of entertainment. I'm sure there's a musician or a band that you know that could play for us."

"Anything else that I need to know that I'm in charge of?"

She rolled her eyes playfully before turning over in his arms. He only drew his head back to ensure that in her quick movement, she didn't accidentally knock her head against his. The cell remained in her hand but her eyes were focused on his, "No, but there is something that both of us should figure out."

"…and what is that," his left brow rises.

"Our honeymoon," she answers, "we should figure out where we want to go, preferably somewhere warm and sunny with beautiful beaches."

"I want to go to a place I've never been before," he stated his only condition.

"Well considering that you're an international rock star who has traveled the world, that's a pretty hard bar to reach. How about you name a country you've never been to and if it's sunny, warm and has beaches and I've never been there too, then we'll go? And we'll commit to it."

As Jay thinks to himself, he realizes that he didn't know many countries. He knows the big ones, the ones that are always in the media, -the United States, Canada, Mexico, England and Italy. He knew a few other ones too due to him performing there throughout the span of his career, -Ireland, Australia, New Zealand, China, Japan and Germany. He reached over to grab his phone, thinking it would be much easier to google a list of recommended honeymoon destinations than it would be for him to come up with a place off the top of his head.

He scrolls past all of the recommendations that were in the United States: California, New York, Florida, Hawaii, Maryland, Nevada, Massachusetts and Texas. He wanted to leave the country; they needed a stress-free and relaxing get-away from work, family and all responsibilities. Jay ignored all the countries that he's visited and he canceled out any countries that didn't have her particular requirements before his eyes fell on one location.

"What about Belize?" He doesn't wait for an answer when he turns his phone around to show her the images that google popped up of the island.

She snatches the phone from his hand to take a closer look, "Oh my goodness, it's beautiful. It's gorgeous. Please tell me you haven't been because I'm sold on going."

"I haven't been," Jay chuckled as he took his phone back.

Erin sends off another text to her mother, informing her of their honeymoon destination. Her mother assigned her assistant to be in charge of planning it and keeping her guards in the loop of every detail involved in their honeymoon. If her dad won the re-election then her guards would have to go. She closed her eyes and then reopened them, "Jay…"

"Yeah babe?"

"I just want to remind you that when we leave for our honeymoon, my guys will be going too."

"…and where will they be staying?"

Erin sighed, "wherever we stay." Jay wanted to stay in a beach bungalow. Once he saw a picture of it, he couldn't see himself staying anywhere else. If they stayed there, he would break whatever rule necessary to ensure that her guards didn't stay in the same hut. They _at least_ had to be two bungalows down, -Erin could be a little loud.

"How about we take a break from wedding planning?" He offered because he was seriously over it. He just wanted to marry her and take her away to whatever country she wanted to visit. He would leave right now if he could. And Erin found no argument in the matter, this time, she agreed and reached over him to grab the remote and turn on the television.

"… _let's get back to political and entertainment news. As was reported days ago, the first daughter Erin Voight and rockstar Jay Halstead are engaged. The couple announced it a few days ago on Good Morning America and it's been all anyone could talk about since the reveal!"_

Erin turned the channel.

" _I don't think they're going to last."_

" _Really? I think they will."_

" _Nope, they won't. Jay's not a one woman man; he likes Erin because of the chase, because she appeared to be unattainable and now he's got her and they'll marry and once he gets bored, he's going to go after the first woman he sees."_

"Turn that mess off," he growled, snatching the remote from her to turn off the television. There was no getting used to it. Ever since their engagement was announced, it's been discussed, broadcasted and talked about by all major and minor networks and talk shows. It was no escape. It was on almost all channels, minus the channels dedicated to cartoons. He didn't care to hear anyone's opinion, -they didn't matter. The only opinions that matter to him are the ones that come from his fiancée, the woman currently cuddled up to him, trying to take the remote from his hand, "Why do you insist on watching that garbage?"

"I think it's out of curiosity at this point."

"Please don't tell me you believe anything they're saying."

"Of course not," she pecked his lips before turning back around to turn on the television.

It's like they didn't miss anything. It felt like the anchors just picked up where they left off.

" _I think they'll make it."_

"Isn't it funny that the people we've never met seem to have the most to say about our relationship," Erin said, not once taking her eyes off the television. Jay nodded his agreement and despite him finding what they were watching to be trash tv, he did seem invested in the argument brewing between co-hosts.

" _I don't think they will."_

" _Oh, come on! You're only saying that because you realize that you've now missed your chance to hook up with Jay!"_

" _Oh please, if I wanted him I would have him!"_

" _I highly doubt that!"_

"I agree with her," Jay spoke up after a long stretch of silence, "I like her. She's cool."

" _We've been following their relationship since the start of it and we've even placed a few bets over the course of the months they've dated and I can honestly say that none of us saw this coming but now that it's here, I'm not surprised!"_

"… _really?"_

" _Yes, I mean, Jay absolutely adores and loves her. He practically worships the ground she walks on and we've never seen that from him. He's changed and it's a nice change, a sweet one that I really didn't know he was capable of…and the way he defends her. Don't we all want a guy to defend us that passionately? That strongly?"_

" _You're talking about from this morning?"_

"… _I'm talking about from over the course of their relationship. This morning wasn't the only time he's defended her. And those social media posts he makes about her. Uh! My future husband needs to start taking notes."_

Erin mutes the television. The five co-hosts continue to gush about Erin and Jay's relationship over the last few months, showing pictures of them at public events and playing short clips of them together at his concerts. Erin is looking at her fiancé, watching him scratch behind his ear bashfully, "Since when did you start blushing?"

"You bring that out of me," he chuckled.

"What were they talking about?"

"It's nothing important," he waves it off. Downplaying things seems to be a hobby of his.

"Jay…"

"It's just, some people weren't saying some nice things and I uh, I had time this morning." He sits up, resting his back against the headboard, "and I know what you're going to say Er, I know you can defend yourself."

"I can, but that's not what I was going to say." She sits up and crawls onto his lap, making herself comfortable by leaning back against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pecked her bare shoulder, "I was going to say thank you."

"Really?" He didn't seem to believe her.

"Yes, because I realize while watching celebrity gossip that I'm a lucky girl. I'm extremely lucky and it's mostly because of you. You protect and defend me. You take care of me. You put me first. I love you." She starts to kiss him, peppering and sliding her lips along his jawline. It didn't take long for her to turn around and straddle his waist, pressing herself down as she starts to kiss him harder, each kiss lasting longer than the last.

Being as it is the anniversary of the day they bumped into each other, it's only right they commemorate it. With the muted television on, showing the co-hosts talking and laughing although their words were unheard on the ears of the young couple. She was still naked from last night. He only had on his boxers. It didn't take much time or effort for them to maneuver his boxers down his legs and it definitely didn't take any time or effort for her to climb on top of him, sliding down and releasing a breathy moan that he swallowed up in a kiss.

"I love you so fucking much," he muttered into her opened mouth. And she didn't bother replying, instead, she showed him just how much she loved him through her actions.


	48. Savor the Moments

To be at Wrigley Field again after what felt like so many years brought on a fresh and nostalgic wave of excitement. The last time she attended a baseball game, she was just a little girl, a few days shy of her eighth birthday and she came with her father, -it was a daddy/daughter day, one that the two of them took nearly once a month, at least until he became the vice president. Each month they did something new, ranging from tasks that were big like taking weekend trips together to something small like throwing a baseball back and forth to each other in the backyard. As a little girl, she was such a daddy's girl, wanting to be anywhere near him at all times while her brother clung to their mother like a life vest. Her dad was protective of her even more so because of that bond, because she's always wanted to be like him and follow as closely to his footsteps as possible. Just that memory alone made her withdraw her cell phone and send him a quick text.

 _At Wrigley right now and I'm thinking about you. Love you, dad, -EV_

Those moments with her dad, she would savor forever. Even when he was being difficult and stubborn, she could never, ever, forget all that he's done for her, all the love, protection and guidance he has provided her. She was his mini-me, so close to being the female version of him if her mother didn't stick her claws in Erin as a teenager. Her dad was slowly, but surely, getting up there in age, currently being in his mid-fifties, yet age was nothing but a number to him because it didn't slow him down. He felt like he was in his prime. He was traveling countries, enacting policies, and accomplishing the goals he set forth when he first ran for president.

She was so proud of him and she only hoped that he felt the same way about her. All that she is today is due to the parenting of Camille and Hank Voight. The private school and college education, the strict rules of the household and the laughter, smiles, memories and experiences they've created in downtown Chicago approximately twenty minutes from Wrigley Field were moments that she would never forget. She owes who she is to them; she owes all the privileges rewarded to her in life to them. She feels her phone vibrate inside her pocket and with her free hand, the one that isn't intertwined with Jay's, she uses it to withdraw it from her pocket.

 _I love you too baby girl, -Dad_

Attached to the reply was a photo. It was obviously taken of an actual picture that's situated on the bookshelf in his office and it was from years ago, that memory that she thought of initially, of herself at eight on her birthday with her dad. She has pigtails in her hair and she's wearing overalls with a white shirt underneath. Two of her front teeth are missing and she's holding the hand of her father, a much younger, stronger, tougher looking man who had to be in his mid-thirties. Her dad's smile is just as big and just as genuine and she remembers secret service being there because while her dad may not have been the vice president or president, he was still a member of Congress and he had much fewer guards assigned to him at that time.

Those days were so simple. They were so careful and lively and she knows that's only because of her youth. As a kid, you have no worries. She zooms into the photo, looking at herself and the carefree expression on her face and the innocence in her eyes. She had yet to find out about the evils in the world, being shielded away from them by her parents for as long as possible preserved that innocence. She had yet to truly feel the effects of one of the many evils in the world until Nadia was killed. Her best friend, the one she couldn't host a funeral for, the one she couldn't bury or acknowledge that she knew.

Erin was afraid to allow her mind to drift off down that train of thought. She shook her head in an effort to knock the memory out but it was hard. This time of year was always hard. With the anniversary of her death approaching, she found herself more days than not feeling the overwhelming emotions involved in grief because Erin never made it through the entire process. She's stuck somewhere in the stages and she honestly sees no way out. She zoomed back out of the photo and focused on the message as a whole in an effort to lighten up her mood. She felt it growing dark and going to a place that she didn't want to go. And fortunately she was able to stop the downward spiral of her thoughts when she felt her boyfriend's thumb run over the back of her palm as he mindlessly waited to be led and escorted by her guards.

Erin turns the phone around to show him the photo, "Look babe," he glances down to the phone, only to take it in his hand to take a closer look, "I was almost eight during that time. It was the last time I was here." Jay thought his girl looked absolutely adorable and he couldn't help but picture the combination of her genes with his and the effect their future children would have on the world. They would be forces to reckon with; with talents and smarts that no one could imagine or go up against. He pictured a little girl that looked like a little Erin, one with brunette hair and missing teeth, but holding his hand instead of her father's hand. A little boy, he pictured to be just the same, holding his opposite hand with matching, missing teeth and shorter hair.

"Babe…"

He snapped out of his reverie, "Huh?"

"I said that's me and my dad here, same time but like almost twenty years ago."

"You were adorable," he whispered, using two fingers on his free hand to zoom in, "you look just like your dad right here."

"I probably acted like him right there too," she laughed before taking back her phone. She needed to reply to his message, _I remember that, good times, dad, good times, -EV_

It was a growing crowd outside the stadium and it was approaching the time to enter. With her guards surrounding them as they walked, majority of the baseball fans didn't even know or realize who was in their presence. All of them too wrapped up in the impending game to care. It was going to be a really good day if it kept up, if they didn't have to worry about people approaching them for autographs from Jay or to discuss the current politics of her father from Erin. Her guards led them towards the VIP entrance. And the second they scanned their tickets through the gates, Erin had felt an overwhelming sense of excitement. She had always wanted to go to a Cubs game since her childhood, but never had the time. And now, she was here, following behind an enthused Jay when they were greeted near the entrance by a man in a business suit. He had sunglasses on that shielded his eyes from the sun and he only withdrew the glasses when they approached, "Mr. Halstead, Ms. Voight, it is such an honor to meet the two of you," he extended his hand as he continued his introduction, "I am Jeff Grissom, the assistant general manager to the team. I was also the on-site contact to your guards to make today as fun and as safe as possible. If you two would follow me," he turns around and begins to lead them into the stadium, "We have a VIP box available and staff inside to bring you anything you desire."

"Jeff, you can just call me Erin," she politely interrupted, "and him Jay," she points to her fiancé who nods his agreement, "And if it's no problem could we just sit with the rest of the crowd?"

That request was unexpected considering that she spent a pretty penny on these tickets at the auction. However, she did feel her money went to good use and the baseball game was just an added bonus to the charity work and philanthropy the tripled cost of the tickets would provide for the organization it went to, so, Erin wouldn't be mad or upset if that VIP box went unused and they were seated out on the stands with other fans of the game.

The question she asked was a serious one; that much was made obvious by the look on her face, as her brows rose and she stood there, patiently waiting for her question to be acknowledged and answered by the assistant manager.

But, before he could answer, Jay gently pulled her to the side and asked, "Is that safe?" She knew he was asking out of concern for her, not for him, but with her guards standing nearby and watching at all times, they would ensure that she was in no danger, "Yes, it's safe and I know," she lowered her voice as Jeff waited patiently for them to finish their side conversation, "I know you don't want to be in some stuffy VIP box," the VIP box would be far from stuffy, she knew that, but still, "I know you would prefer to watch it in the stands, closer where we can actually participate in the cheering and the camaraderie among other fans. This was a gift for you, remember?"

He does, but that doesn't mean he wanted to jeopardize her safety for it. No gift is worth that. It was a few days before her birthday and yet here she was presenting him with more gifts and memories that would bring a smile onto his face. He couldn't help but feel guilty and think back to the words expressed by her father the day they shared the news of their engagement with him. _I've always seen you prove your love for him._ Jay knew that was true; she went above and beyond to protect him and make sure he's happy. She overcame her fear of heights to skydive with him on his birthday. She pushed her nerves aside to announce their engagement in front of millions of people because she knew it was something he wanted to do. She's traveled more times to see him than he's done to see her. Jay knew that in the next days leading up to her birthday, after her birthday and possibly for forever, he was going to make her happy and keep her happy. He smiled and kissed the skin just above her cheek, "I love you."

"I know that," she pats his cheek gently before turning to face their personal guide; "if it's possible then we would love to sit with the crowd."

"If that's what the two of you want then that's what the two of you shall get. Follow me."

Jay pulled the Cubs cap off his head and situated it on top of hers to obscure some type vision of her, "There, that's a little better, now let's follow him." He took a hold of her hand again.

"For the record, I just want to say that this won't work at all."

"You don't know that," he laughs.

"Your face isn't hidden, once people see you, then that basically gives away my identity unless people start to assume you're taking random girls to baseball games now." She made a point.

And based on the look on his face, she knew he realized that she made a valid point indeed. He turns to face her when Jeff comes to a stop, to talk to a member of the staff to get the best placement recommended for the young couple. Jeff was occupied so Jay chose this moment to talk to Erin without being rude.

"I hate that you're always right," he quipped, adjusting the peak of the cap, "but if I'm going to spend the rest of my life with you then I might as well get used to it." That, earned a hearty chuckle from her before she leaned forward and reached to press her lips against his, "It's good that you're realizing that now instead of later on down the line." Using the pad of her thumb, she wipes the lipstick mark she left behind from the kiss off his lips; "Come on, Jeff's walking again and maybe once we get our seats, we can order some Chicago style hotdogs, a warm pretzel, nachos and cracker jacks before the crowd really starts to come in."

"Your metabolism is amazing," he complimented as Jeff leads them further into the stadium, down the stairs as close to the field as possible, "I'm surprised you're still hungry."

"…we ate over two hours ago."

That gave him an idea on what he could do for her birthday. His girl loved food; he'll incorporate that into whatever he comes up with to celebrate her 27th.

"This is where you two can sit," Jeff steps back to allow them to walk into the aisle, "these are some of the best seats. The first few rows of the lower level directly behind the dugout are some good seats; it's close to the action, you're able to see the players' infield, and you're rewarded with a striking view of the field. There are also opportunities to receive game-used baseballs, just be mindful that foul balls can fly into the stands. I don't need either one of you getting hurt on my watch. Here, the first few rows behind the dugout provide in-seat wait service so you can order all to your hearts content." Jay glanced over at his fiancée, knowing that those words were a dream of hers and she would be content to sit through an entire baseball game because of it.

Two of her guards, Atwater and Sorensen, sat down first with Sorensen, then Atwater, followed by Erin and then Jay with her other guards sitting on his opposite side, Dawson and then Roman.

"I will check back in with you all throughout the game and afterwards I'll take you down to meet the team. They're all looking forward to meeting you both."

Just as soon as Jeff brought them to their seats, he received a phone call and had to leave, he had team-required appearances to make as the start of the game approached. And as soon as Erin took her seat, she felt her phone vibrating and by the constant buzz, she knew it was a phone call instead of a text. She withdrew it from her pocket and put it to her ear, "Hey dad, what's up?"

"I know you're busy at the game Erin, but I wanted to run something past you while I had time," based on the sound of her father's voice, she could tell he was a bit hesitant to tell her what's on his mind which only made her grow worried and suspicious.

"…and what is this about?"

"I was talking to your mother," he starts just as Jay waved over a waiter to put in a food order for all the foods she named earlier, "and we think it's a good idea if we were to get a pre-nup drawn for Jay to sign. Now I know what you're thinking but it's just a precautionary thing, not a predicting thing…it's to protect you in case of divorce, not necessarily to say you will get one."

"I don't want to do that."

He takes a deep breath and pauses, "…why not?" She's glad that he's willing to hear her out and not jump to conclusions or try to force her to have one.

"I don't need one," Erin notices that Jay is in a conversation with Dawson and Roman just as the game starts to begin; he isn't paying attention to her words at all, "dad, I can't explain it all, but just trust when I say I don't need one and understand when I say I don't want one."

Surprisingly, he doesn't argue against that. Some part of him actually respected that. And what's even more surprising is he drops the subject without a rebuttal and with a whisper of understanding, "I know where you're coming from kid. I'm just looking out for you. Your old man will never stop protecting you."

"I know dad, and thank you. I do appreciate that, but I know what I'm doing." He hopes so.

She could picture her father pinching his nose and sighing, "Yeah, I know, it's just a little hard to let go. It's hard to not do everything in my power to protect you." The game starts. And the food arrives, "and I just need some time to come around but I'm trying. I just…I just need you to know that," and she does, she does know that; it's what she's been trying to tell Jay, "I am trying, Erin," he runs his hand over his face and Erin uses the moment to chime in.

"I know you are, dad, and I appreciate you being honest with me about that. And I know you're only looking out for me when it comes to the pre-nup, but I don't think that's needed."

"I understand…or at least I will try to understand."

"That's all I ask."

He was a busy man. It was no surprise that he couldn't talk that long. He wished her a farewell and told her to enjoy the game and keep him updated before he hung up. She appreciated that he didn't fight or argue with her about a pre-nuptial agreement; she was happy that he took her word on it, that he accepted her word as final. She loved him even more for that. It was a brief, quick conversation that was shut down the second she said no and he was okay with that, he didn't push, he didn't pry and he didn't force; he accepted it.

"That was your dad," Jay stated, more so a statement than a question, "is everything okay?"

"Yeah, it's better than okay actually. My dad dropped the p-word," at hearing that Jay raises his brow in question and she clarifies, "pre-nuptial agreement," she laughs, "I told him no and he left it at that. He's trying to come around Jay," she throws her arm around his shoulders, "just give him time, but he's trying. We just have to be patient."

Jay smiles; it's as genuine as one can expect. He hands her the food he ordered that arrived just before the end of her phone call. The game is going and Jay divides his time between eating, talking to his girl and watching the game. Sometimes, although he tries to avoid it, his mind does drift to the nearby future, to the upcoming days ahead, more specifically the anniversary of Nadia's death. He's spoken to Severide –without Erin knowing- and he was given a heads up on how to handle the unresolved grief of Erin Voight. It was during that time on the phone with Kelly that he realized he needed to do something, preferably something different because everything Erin has done in the past in regards to Nadia's death hasn't helped her get through it.

He watches the game and the second an idea comes to his mind, he quickly pulls out his cell phone and texts Kelly, _I want to do something special for Erin but I'm going to need your help, -JH_. And he will because he won't have a chance to do it himself. And Severide knew Nadia and based on the idea that's come to his mind; he knows Kelly is a close second to Erin when it comes to getting assistance for what he wants to do. He just hopes Severide agrees and Erin appreciates it. He doesn't want to overstep especially on the anniversary of all days.

As the team takes the lead by a point, she orders herself a soda to wash down the load of starch and protein she had consumed during the first half of the game. She was satisfied and full and if she weren't in public, she would unbutton her jeans, lean back and close her eyes. The life of someone who has to act accordingly in public was exhausting sometimes…

The game continued on and Jay was practically vibrating in excitement, standing on his feet and leaning forward to watch the play. Erin kept nibbling on her cracker jacks. The Cubs were in the lead after a long period during the game where it was a tie between teams. He was invested. She was decked out in a Cubs shirt and hat that she had borrowed from Jay and he'd worn a Cubs shirt with matching socks that were hidden because of his sneakers and jeans.

"…it's for good luck, Er," he had told her hours ago when they were getting ready.

During the seventh-inning stretch, the team and fans used the moment to wish the first daughter of the United States, a happy birthday. It was days before the actual day but it didn't make the video that projected on the jumbotron any less spectacular. It was a montage of photos taken of her through the year combined with short video clips of each member of the team wishing her a happy birthday and thanking her for the philanthropy and the money she's donated to the team and the city. Fans were filmed outside as they entered the stadium and stopped to share a few sweet words with the first daughter and as Erin looked up and watched the screen, she couldn't help but feel loved. She handed her cracker jacks to Atwater and rose to her feet, standing beside her fiancé who looked down at her with an immeasurable smile stretched wide across his face.

"Did you…"

"I had no idea," Jay admitted honestly; he was practically speechless at the thoughtful gesture made by the team and the staff at Wrigley.

Erin stands to her feet when she sees herself live on the screen. The cameras –wherever they are- were directed at her. She waved and mouthed an appreciative thank you just as the screen transitioned to the kiss cam screen with the camera scanning the crowd and searching for couples. Erin sat back down and Jay did too before taking her hand, "You're popular today."

"I'll take it," she shrugs.

After they returned from New York, they took a break from wedding talk. The last thing they'd decided on was making Erin's song, their wedding song, and having the recorded track play in the background to their first dance as a married couple. As the game picks up and the Cubs bring in a well-earned victory, Jeff reappeared to lead the couple and their guards down to meet the players on the field. Stepping onto the field at Wrigley was a dream come true to him; he had been stunned speechless. And Erin enjoyed watching every second of it. Knowing that the upcoming days were going to be hard considering it'll mark another year since Nadia died, -she died the day before Erin's birthday and this time of year was always the hardest. This was a good way to distract herself, immersing herself in baseball, hugging the players, shaking their hands and thanking them for the birthday wishes and the congratulations on her engagement.

To see the love of her life, her cool and smooth fiancé fangirl over the team was something that she didn't know she needed. It was pretty entertaining to even see Jay ask for autographs, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet as all of the players gathered to sign their names. He came prepared, with a black, permanent marker in his pocket and allowed each player to sign the back of his jersey. Her guards, by request of Jay, took photos with his cell phone of the two of them with the players and the coaches. The professional photographer for the team had come out to take pictures to post on their site, to show the community as the players and the couple made conversation and Jay extended unplanned and undiscussed invitations to the players and coaches to their wedding. He never ran this by her.

"…sorry babe," he scratched the back of his head, "I got a little carried away and was in the moment," he whispered to ensure the team didn't overhear. He was so excited to meet them and had spoken before his brain caught up. He didn't even process the invite until it was said.

"That's quite alright, just know, that I'm inviting Peter Stone since you decided to invite the entire team and staff of the Chicago Cubs baseball team. And I don't want to hear any complaints about it." Her one invite in comparison to his many held no comparison.

He had no rebuttal for that. She had already sent her mother the list of people they wanted to invite and since he practically added a whole slew of new people, he couldn't argue with her for wanting to add one more, even if it was an old fling. He had to bite his tongue and suck it up. He had to remind himself that she's marrying him, not Peter Stone.

Once his phone was returned to him from Sorensen, he immediately posted his favorite photos out of the assortment to his social media as he followed the team into the building. This had to be one of the best days of his life. He had his favorite girl, it was the end of his probation and anger management modules, he watched his favorite team, his team won and they all agreed to attend his wedding. This day couldn't get any better and it was already the start of a great month, -April, being his girl's birthday month, was slowly turning into becoming his favorite time of year. And Jay knows that with Nadia's passing, this month had turned into one Erin hoped would take its time in arrival and fly by quickly in its departure and if he had any say or weight in the matter then he was going to do everything in his power to turn that around for her, to make April a time of year that she could cherish.

-x-

This morning, this day, had a solemn feeling to it. When Jay opened his eyes, he could feel it in his gut that today wasn't going to be the easiest. All things considered, why would it be? He's had the whole week to prepare himself. Each of her guards at some point during the week had pulled him to the side to remind him about today, to caution him about Erin on this day; it's the same thing every year and things haven't been better. He even received a text from Camille when he left the Cubs game a few days ago, asking for him to watch out for her little girl.

That went without saying. He would always watch out for Erin. He didn't need to be told.

The night before Justin had reached out to him after getting his number from his mother's cell. He had asked of the same thing, only adding a request for updates. Severide had tried to call but when he didn't answer, he called Atwater and told his girl's guard to pass the phone over to him, and the words that his fiancée's best friend said to him played on repeat; _don't let her pretend like everything is okay; encourage her to feel and just be there for her because trust me, she's going to need it._ Jay expected the worse; they tried to prepare him for it, but when the day actually came, he realized there was no preparing for this. He wasn't prepared to be awoken at four in the morning because his cell phone wouldn't stop ringing.

It's on his bed somewhere. He had fallen asleep with it in his hand. He remembers that but couldn't remember much else after it. His phone continued to ring and seconds after it stopped, it started back up again. He couldn't find it. He rolled over, maybe Erin was laying on it, but when he shifted and rolled to ask her, he found her gone. Jay immediately sat up and threw the covers off his legs as he scrambled out of the bed and out of his room, "Erin." His voice wasn't loud; it was whispered as if he didn't want to scare her. He didn't know where she was but it was quiet in his penthouse and he didn't want to startle her on a day like today.

He had a surprise for her. It's something he'd thought of last minute but he hoped that it would help her heal because after all these years, if she's still experiencing the same emotions, just as strong as she felt them on the day it happened, it meant that she wasn't healing. It was the anniversary of Nadia's death; it was the day that her best friend died and it was the same day that her life had changed. She still blamed herself. Everyone knew it. It wasn't her fault. And everyone seemed to know that too, at least, everyone but her.

"Erin," he's dragging his feet as one hand covers his mouth as he yawns and the other scratches his stomach, "Erin!" The longer he looked and couldn't find her, the more he started to panic. He checked every room, every nook and cranny and when he couldn't find her, he felt his heart start to beat faster, at such a fast pace he thought it was going to beat out of his chest. He ran back to his room, tripping over Nico and scrambling to find his cell because it could have been her that called, it was probably her that called because no one else would be awake at this time.

The puppy lifted his head and titled it in the direction of his human, raising his ears in a silent question and Jay seemed to pick up on it, "Where's Erin? Where's your mama?" Nico stretched his mouth wide open and yawned before rising to all four paws. He padded across the bedroom floor before jumping onto the king-sized bed. Nico dug his paws into Erin's side of the bed as if he expected her to be there, as if he didn't understand her absence. He whined and Jay picked him up to set him back down on the floor, "I feel ya Nico, I feel ya."

And suddenly his phone starts to vibrate and he follows the feeling until he finds it at the foot of the bed, lying under a heap of blankets. He grabs it to find two voicemails and a text message from Erin. All hints of tiredness gone from him as the panic turned into relief. He reads the text first, _don't worry, I just needed some air, -EV_

He had every intention of responding but he needed to hear her voice, he would know how she's feeling if he could just hear her voice. Jay calls. And she doesn't answer; it rings four times before going to voicemail and he decides to leave one just in case, _text me where you are and stay there. I'm coming to get you_ , he pleads into the phone before hanging up. He shoots off a quick text, _answer your phone please, where are you, -JH._ He tries to call again but instead of ringing, her phone goes straight to voicemail. She wants solitude; she wants to be alone and while normally Jay would grant her whatever she wishes, he couldn't, not today, not on a day she shouldn't be alone. And he doesn't know where she is and he doubts her guards do. Immediately, he clicks on Atwater's name, waiting for half a ring until her guard answers, "Halstead."

When they resigned to his penthouse for the night, her guards stood watch until midnight since they didn't have plans to leave again. Erin knows that she shouldn't venture out, especially at this time by herself. She usually doesn't leave without her guards. It's why they trust her. It's why they didn't argue when she dismissed them and sent them back to their hotel for the night. But, based on the tone in Atwater's voice, it sounds as if he just woke up which meant, he wasn't with her.

"Erin's gone."

Now that the words have left his mouth, he realized he should have phrased them differently or at least started from the beginning, "GONE?" He's never heard Atwater raise his voice; he heard movement in the background and doors being knocked on, "What do you mean gone? Do you know where she went? When did she leave? Why didn't you stop her? Why didn't you call us sooner? I should have just stayed there, spent the night on the couch or in the hallway."

"She's safe," Jay reassures, running his hand down his face, "she left, I don't know at what time, but I woke up to find her gone. She said she needed to get some air."

"Did she take Nico with her?" Atwater only asked because he'd been training the little pup to be more so a guard dog than anything else. Nico didn't play when it came to his humans.

"No, Nico's still here."

"Is her phone on?"

"It either died or she turned it off. I tried calling."

Atwater ran his hand down his face, "Do you have any idea of where she would go?"

"If I did, I would be there right now."

"Stay there, don't leave, I'm on my way." Before Jay could disagree, Atwater hung up. He's never seen her guard so worried. He's always been cool, calm and collected. He was hoping that calling Atwater would somehow calm him down, somehow reassure him, but it only did the opposite. Her guard was worried which means he was even more worried than he was before.

If Atwater thought that Jay was just going to sit on his ass and do nothing then he obviously didn't know the guy. He clicked over to the voicemails she left, put them on speaker and listened as he threw on the clothes he wore yesterday, "Jay, I'm sorry," he heard her sniff and he knew she was crying, "I uh…I would have woke you up but then you wouldn't have let me leave. You would have tried to stop me or tried to come with me and I just…I just really needed some solitude so I can think…about her. I'm sorry I didn't wake you but I'm okay and I'm safe." The first voicemail ended and as he tied his shoes, he played the second and last, "It's me again. I just miss her," Erin's voice cracks and she takes a deep breath to gather herself, "I just miss her so much and she should be here. She should be in the wedding, she should be helping me plan this, she should be going with me dress shopping but she's not because some sick fuck killed her. I'll be home soon. I hope to get there before you wake up but if I don't…I don't want you to worry. I know what I'm doing and I'm going to be okay, I just need a minute to myself."

Jay's actions slowed to a stop. He wanted to grab his keys and go find her but she could be anywhere. Chicago's a big city and what if she's outside of the city? He didn't know where to look. She never named special places that connected her to Nadia. He didn't know where to go but when he heard the front door unlock and open, he realized that he didn't need to figure it out because in just a few seconds, he was going to get his answer. He stepped over Nico and raced out of the room, a relieved smile stretched across his face until he saw them and it suddenly dropped. It wasn't Erin. It was her guards and they had gotten here pretty fast.

Considering it was four-something in the morning, there's no surprise that they had gotten here in half the time it would have normally taken.

"Have you spoken to her?" Atwater rushed forward.

"No, but she text me and left a voicemail to let me know that she was safe," Jay replied; he tried to be strong for them, tried to reassure them with the fake expression on his face but they saw through it. He was worried and he was freaking out on the inside.

"Roman, call Severide, see if he knows where Erin went," Dawson ordered and before Roman could follow through on the command, another voice rang out in the room that stopped him.

"…that's not necessary. I didn't call him so he wouldn't have known."

That relieved smile that was once across his face was back as he rushed over to her and enveloped her into his arms, squeezing her body against his as he peppered small kisses against her face, working and hoping for a smile. One never came. Her eyes were too busy focused on Atwater's as he approached, "What were you thinking?"

"I just needed to be alone."

"Then you should have went to the bathroom or another room," her guard's anger was bubbling up to the surface and Jay was speechless because he'd never seen Atwater so pissed, "You don't just leave, not without telling us at least, you don't have that privilege! All you had to do was call us and tell us where you were going and we would have understood; we would have probably let you go alone because we trust you," he's only going off because he was scared, "there have been plenty of times when you wanted to go somewhere by yourself or with Jay and we didn't stop you because all we ask is for you to tell us where you're going because if something happened to you at least we would have known where you went! We risk our necks for you, Erin, most of the stuff we do for you, most of the privileges we grant you, we could get into trouble for, we could get fired because of them!" Atwater didn't seem to be calming down.

"…Kevin," Jay called him by his first name. The sound of his voice was cautious; he wanted her guard to calm down. He gets him being upset but today of all days, Erin didn't need this.

Atwater ignored him and kept on spewing out a lecture, "To just leave and not tell anyone where you went is selfish! To go anywhere alone puts your life in danger!"

"Give her a break man," Jay chimed in, but Atwater only continued.

"You risked your safety to run off, to go gallivanting in the night to god knows where!"

"I was on the roof." Her voice broke.

She never left the building. She just went upstairs to the roof, to look out at the night sky and think of her departed friend. She meant no harm in what she did. Struggling to hold back her grief and pain, the tears began to flow more steadily, falling down her unmoving face as her brain sorted through a formation of words to respond to Atwater with; she was too busy thinking of Nadia, blaming herself, regretting that she never had a funeral for her and all of those memories had to be pushed to the back of her mind for her to be able to focus on what she's going to say to her guard.

"I just went to the roof Kev, I'm not stupid!" She cried out; she tried to hold in the tears but this mixed with the early hour and the fact that it's the anniversary of her friend's death only meant she was fighting against an undefeatable foe, "I left and went to the roof for a little over an hour! I just needed some time to myself! I'm always surrounded and I can never just feel and express my emotions because I have you guys telling me it'll be okay or trying to cover my eyes with sunglasses to make sure no one sees the tears in them! I don't care if people see me crying! I'm crying for her! I lost her! And I would think that since you guys were around at the time, you would all understand!" She shouted before taking a deep breath and lowering her voice, "I'm sorry for worrying all of you, that was not my intention. I'm sorry for risking your job and everything else I screwed up but I needed that moment of clarity, I needed some time before my cell phone blows up with calls and messages from everyone scared that I'm going to drink myself into an early grave or say fuck my sobriety and buy drugs! I'm not going to do that. I've come too far! I'm just," she pauses to consider her next words, "I'm sick and tired of feeling like this every year on the anniversary of her death and on her birthday. I want to grieve. I want to get to a point where I think of her and think of the good times, the good memories and not of the monster that killed her, not of the trial or sitting through the autopsy report or even identifying her body! I don't want to keep blaming myself. I don't want to keep feeling like this. So that's why I went to that roof because I had to re-evaluate some things, I needed to take it all in and talk to her, or talk out loud or whatever. I wouldn't have been able to do that with all of you breathing down my neck." She pushed past her boyfriend and walked into the bedroom.

And at least Nico appeared happy to see her. He was tired but the second his eyes fell upon his human; he couldn't help but jump to his feet and race over, practically tackling her down to lick the side of her face. He was getting pretty big to be under a year. He was actually a few months away from being one, considering Erin had gotten the pup in December and it's April and he was born sometime in October. She ran her fingers through his dog hair and smiled as his infinite amount of love and loyalty was expressed by the licks he applied to her hands and face. She laughed, "I love you too Nico," she grabbed his collar and pulled him in close to hug him.

"Save some for me," she heard her fiancé say from the doorway. Erin didn't speak. She wasn't in the mood for a sequel to the previous argument. Jay walked over and took a seat beside her on the floor, "I'm not mad at you. I was just worried."

"I told you not to worry."

"…yeah, well that's easier said than done."

"You shouldn't have called them," she whispered as Nico laid down, planting his head in her lap as she soothingly pat him.

"I panicked and I figured they were with you. You didn't answer when I called."

"My phone," she whispered, pulling it out of her pocket.

His hand covered her phone, wrapping itself around her opened palm, "it died?"

"No," she hated to admit it but she wants to be honest, "I turned it off. I needed to be alone."

"My company wouldn't have made you feel better."

"To be honest," she phrased it as a question and he nodded in the affirmative, "no. You didn't know her. You weren't there when it happened. I knew her the best. I found her. I had to do this by myself. I didn't even tell Severide."

"…why not," he pulled her cell from her hand and took it upon himself to turn it on.

"He worries too much," she shrugs her shoulders, "and he would have come over and that's the last thing I need. I don't want him driving at close to five in the morning because I'm having a mental breakdown. He has work. He needs to focus."

"A mental breakdown," out of everything she said, his ears caught onto that.

"…that's what it felt like."

"Are you tired?" She silently shook her head no to answer his question and he smiled and extended his hand, "alright then, I have a surprise for you and I need you to come with me."

"I don't think I'm in the mood for an early birthday celebration."

"Good, because it's not."

A question loomed behind her eyes. What was he up to? But, the only way to find out was to trust him and go. She placed her hand in his and the two of them got up, put Nico on a leash and led her guards out of the building. Atwater didn't say a word. He just silently followed them to the car and held the door open for her to climb in, "Thanks." She whispers just as he starts to climb in, "you're welcome." He sits across from her and gives her a smile, one in which she returns. It wasn't big but considering the time and day, it was the best she could offer.

Jay gave Dawson the address and it didn't sound familiar to her. He also shot off a text message but she couldn't see who it was sent to. She sighed out, blowing a strand of her from her face as she leaned back and closed her eyes. Nico's head is out of the window, tongue wagging as he enjoyed the early morning breeze. Jay rubbed his back with his free hand as he held Erin's hand with the other. He held it tight, squeezing it every so often to remind her that she isn't alone, not anymore, not ever again and she only squeezed back once to thank him, to signal that she loves him and while it may not be obvious, she does appreciate this.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Erin, you know I am," Atwater begins seconds after he buckled his seatbelt, "and I'm sorry for the way I spoke to you earlier. I let my emotions get in the way and I shouldn't have spoken to you like that. I apologize."

For Jay, this was the first time he's seen them argue, the first time he's witnessed tension between Erin and her guards. For Erin, this happened more times than people would imagine. She's spent almost every day with them for over ten years; arguments were bound to happen.

"No hard feelings Kev, I get it," she whispered, hand squeezing that of her fiancé's as she tries to keep her voice steady, "and I know it came from a good place. You care. And I appreciate that. I love you, all of you, for that. I'm sorry if I've been a bit difficult."

Erin leans her head to the side, resting it against Jay's shoulder. She closes her eyes because it's still early and drifts off until the truck comes to a full stop. It felt like she had only blinked but when she glanced at the time, she realized that her short power nap was half an hour long. It didn't look like they were in Chicago anymore; it looked like they were on the outskirts of it, a surrounding city that not many people have visited unless passing through, "Where are we?" No one answered, but that was only because Erin had answered her own question the second she looked out of the window, "…why are we at a cemetery?"

"I want you to have this."

"You want me to have a cemetery?" the confusion was evident on her face as she followed him outside of the car and through the rows and aisles of headstones, "you bought me a cemetery?"

"No," he chuckles, placing his hand at her lower back to lead her along, to lead her until she spots a familiar face, -Severide, "I want you to have that," Jay brings her to a stop beside her closest friend but she's too distracted to hug him, to question his presence here because her eyes are drawn to the stone in front of her, "I know you told me that she never got to have a funeral service, you don't know where her ashes are sprinkled and you never got a chance to say goodbye and I know it's not the same, but I figured, now is a good time to do it. We can have a service here…for her and I know we're not in the traditional black clothing that seems to be socially acceptable for a funeral but based on the stories you've told me about her, I figured that wasn't really her thing." And he was right. Nadia was too out of this world, too different to fall into societal norms and expectations. So what, they weren't all dressed in black? It didn't make the moment any less special. Nadia deserved this. She deserved a service, and so did Erin, because it went without saying that it was pretty unfair how her parents handled the whole Nadia situation.

Erin is speechless as she stares down at the headstone. She knows Nadia isn't buried there. She knows that, but to see her friend's name etched into the stone, to see her date of birth with a dash that leads to her date of death and to see the words beloved friend written below her name but above the dates brings forth a rapid flow of tears. At the sight in front of her, her eyes fill with a mixture of despair, relief and happiness. Despair at the loss of her friend, relief at the sight of a headstone and happiness because for the first time since Nadia died, she could see closure in the nearby future. The tombstone was made out of black granite and it was heart shaped. It looked to have cost a pretty penny but knowing Jay there wasn't any amount of money he wasn't willing to spend if it meant the end result would be a smile on her face. She leans up to press a kiss against his cheek before facing forward, facing the grave.

"I know she's not buried there but-" he never finishes that statement. He doesn't need to finish it because Erin isn't listening. She's sitting down in front of the grave, brushing a few specks of dirt off the tombstone as Severide lays a bouquet of flowers down.

Erin smiled and adjusted them, "…peonies were always her favorite." She only wished she had more; she deserved so much more, "can we um," Erin adjusts one of the flowers, "can we get more flowers? She needs more peonies." And that was all she needed to say before Sorensen and Roman disappeared to retrieve the car and hit up the closest flower shop.

She felt Jay take a seat to her right and Severide to her left. The arm of her closest friend wrapped around her and he pulled her close, kissing the side of her head as they stared down at the tombstone. This was a place she could visit. This is a place where she could make up for being a lousy friend, for not throwing her the funeral she deserved. Erin felt a tear roll down her cheek and Jay reached over to squeeze her thigh, "Did you want to say a few words?"

"I don't have anything written."

Severide squeezes her tightly in his embrace, "Just speak from the heart."

And Erin does just that, leaning on her best friend and her fiancé as she shares memories, fears and the burden she felt for Nadia's death. She disclosed the news of her engagement to her deceased friend, crying at the thought of her missing her wedding. Her fingers twist the ring around her finger as she feels a deep rooted tension leave her shoulders. She needed this. She needed a place to come to, to connect and reminisce about her old friend. She shared a promise with her, one that states she'll never forget her. Nadia will always be carried around in her heart because she's come in and imprinted herself permanently in Erin's life and just because she's physically gone doesn't mean the impact that she left will ever disappear. She speaks of her hopes and dreams, she cries when she starts to remember that Nadia never got to meet hers. She talks of work, of her passion and her charity and she whispers, "I hope I'm making you proud." And Severide and Jay are pretty sure that Nadia has always been proud. She introduces her friend to her fiancé, speaking into the air as if Nadia was sitting right in front of her, "he's the love of my life." Erin wipes her eyes and releases a dry chuckle, "You two would have liked each other. I know she would have liked you. She would have thought you were good for me."

Jay finds comfort in knowing that. To know that someone who has meant everything to his girl would have approved of them did more for him than he could truly understand. He pulled her hand into his lap, holding it with both hands and squeezing it gently in reassurance. She remained leaning against Severide and talking to Nadia, sharing with her old friend her grievances, her wishes and her regrets and at that, she leans from Severide's side to Jay's side and that's when Sorensen and Roman return, holding too many bouquets of peonies for her to count. It was a struggle and the sweat on their brow shows just how much but neither of them complained, not when there's a smile –a real and genuine one- on Erin's face as they set each bouquet down in front of her grave. Erin couldn't remember the last time she felt like this on the anniversary of her friend's death; she couldn't recall the last time she smiled and laughed on a day filled with so many bad memories.

-x-

All of the events of the day before flow into the next day, the day of Erin's 27th birthday. It all goes into the morning of her birthday leading to them not waking up until close to noon. It led to her waking up to find her name trending on social media with the world wishing the first daughter a happy birthday. It warmed her heart. It led to her turning on the television in her fiancé's bedroom to find the news taking a segment out of their daily scheduled programming to use one minute of their footage to wish her a happy birthday. Strangers who she has never met posting photos of her on their social media or just simply shouting her out to wish her a happy birthday made the day special for her.

And breakfast in bed served on a tray with a white lily in a small vase to the corner of the tray being carried in by her fiancé made it even more so. She sat up and leaned her back against the headboard as he sat the tray on her lap, "You did all of this for me?"

"Happy birthday baby," he whispered, leaning forward to brush a kiss to her forehead, "now you should eat up because we have a busy day ahead of us."

This man knew one of the ways to her heart, -food, and homemade food at that. She smiled down at the contents on her plate, -French toast with powdered sugar, home fries, bacon, scrambled eggs and a side of fruit salad served in a small dish bowl with a glass of orange juice to wash it all down. She glanced at the clock; he must have woken up early to go to the store and get the ingredients to make it.

Erin felt the bed dip when Jay sat at the end of it, drawing her feet into his lap as he used his hands to massage the toes and arches of her feet. It all felt too good. Constantly walking in high heels took its toll on her poor feet and he was treating her to a nice massage as she filled her belly with some of her favorite breakfast foods. She finished cutting up her French toast and started to pour syrup over the delicious bread before popping a forkful of it into her mouth, she moans, "If your day job doesn't work out, you can always become a chef. I swear if I had your skills in the kitchen I probably would never stop cooking and never stop eating."

"…thanks," he felt a blush creep over his cheeks, "my mom taught me and after she died, we kind of had to fend for ourselves, you know? I got tired of cooking and eating the same thing so I bought cookbooks and learned how to make lots of things."

"Oh, I'm going to love being married to you," she gushes, taking another bite of her breakfast.

"You're just marrying me for culinary skills," he joked and she washed down what she ate with a sip of juice before responding, "That's just one of the many reasons why I'm marrying you."

The sound of her fork scraping against the plate filled the room as she stuffed her mouth with the different meals made to perfection. Between the foot massage and the homemade breakfast served to her in bed, he had already made her birthday the best it has ever been. Even as she clears her plate and he begins to massage the muscles of her ankle and lower calf, she finds herself not wanting to leave the bed. He makes it impossible to do so. Even when he clears the tray from her lap and shoos her into the bathroom, he's already showered and dressed, and he needs her to get ready so they can head out.

"Where are we going?" She asks as he drags her into the bathroom.

He turns on the shower and holds his hand under the water to make sure it isn't too hot, "Do you really think I'm going to tell you," he laughs before withdrawing his hand, "now get showered because where we're going, you definitely deserve to experience."

That's all he tells her. That's the only hint she'll get. It's why she rushes her shower.

By the time Erin was showered and dressed, there was a familiar melody playing throughout his penthouse. She didn't have to find him. She knew exactly where he was. And while mouthing the lyrics to her new favorite song, she followed the sound of it to find him sitting on the couch, playing the notes and pulling the strings of his guitar as he belt out a rendition of her song before transitioning it into a remixed version of happy birthday. She takes a seat next to him on the couch, she closes her eyes and she allows his beautiful voice to sweep her up. Her head falls to his shoulder just as he extends a note and when the song comes to an end, she opens her eyes and pleas with her gaze for him to sing it again.

And he does. He could never refuse her. He sings the remixed version of happy birthday that he thought of before transitioning it into the traditional version and the second it comes to an end again, she leans over and pecks the lobe of his ear, "I love watching you play."

"…yeah?" He carefully sits his guitar down.

"Mmhmm, teach me some time…" and he couldn't refuse that because just how watching him play does things to Erin, he could only picture what it'll do to him when he sees her play.

"You ready to get out of here, birthday girl?"

She rolls her eyes and smiles, "…don't call me that."

"Why not birthday girl?" He reaches for her and she swats him away.

"I hate that," she chuckles.

"I'll try to stop birthday girl," he reaches for her again and this time he's successful in pulling her into his arms, "no promises."

"You're doing a horrible job of it."

He shrugs, unbothered, before quickly pecking the corner of her mouth and drawing his head back. The expression on Jay's face was so soft, so loving and natural, and Erin couldn't help but to blush under his gaze.

Enjoying the small moments were what made her birthday all she has ever wanted. She didn't need the extravagant gifts; just being in his presence was enough for her. It wasn't enough for him though; it's not enough for a guy who wants to give his girl everything and more. So when his phone buzzes in his pocket with a text from Atwater, he takes her hand and against her groan of disapproval, pulls her out of the penthouse.

Her guards are waiting.

It's obvious they know of the events Jay has planned for today.

And it's also obvious by the expression on their faces that they have no intention of telling her.

"Are you guys seriously not going to tell me? What happened to loyalty?" Erin grumbles as she climbs into the back of the truck. Her guards only chuckle as they wait for everyone to be buckled before driving off.

Jay is on his phone during the ride. Erin is too focused on the landmarks and buildings they're passing to notice. She hasn't looked at him once since Dawson started driving.

"You're not going to guess it," Jay remarks, pocketing his cell just as she pulls hers out. It vibrated and she notices a social media notification indicating that he's tagged her in a message.

"I can try," she retorts, eyes remained focus on the road despite the phone in her hand, "I'm going to figure this out. I notice we're almost out of downtown."

"…just sit back and enjoy the ride," his voice held a plea; she was smart, he didn't want her to guess, he wanted her to be surprised, "and check your notifications."

To appease him –even though it was her birthday- she takes his advice and does as he requested. She opens up one of her social media apps and taps on the notification icon to look at the picture he's tagged her in. She thinks of the birthday post she made for him and then looks at the one he made for her. Guys and girls are too different. It makes her chuckle and swoon at the same time because even though it's a short message, it's still special.

 _My reason to smile, happy birthday baby, I love you_

It was written beneath a black and white photo of her taken when she wasn't paying attention. It's a casual look she sported, one of his favorites because he didn't need her to dress up to look beautiful. He liked her in anything she wore. And that was obvious by the heart eye emoji he posted to start off his birthday message. She's wearing sweats and a tank-top, her hair is in a messy bun and she has her reading glasses on, the black rims of them stand out in the photo. With the opened laptop on her lap and the fact that she's sitting on his bedroom floor hints that she was most likely working. That's the only reason he'd manage to sneak a picture without her knowing. Nico was in the far corner of the photo, lying on his doggy bed, fast asleep. She zoomed into the picture and smiled at the sight of her growing pup, "He's getting so big."

"Yeah, our pup is growing up fast," he whispers, sliding closer –and thinking to himself how happy he is that she isn't paying attention to their surroundings- "we should get another."

She zooms out and averts her eyes to glance in his direction, "Yeah, no," she shakes her head at the thought, "I love Nico, don't get me wrong, but the next living thing we bring into our home to take care of and love is going to be a baby."

When it comes to conversations between her and Jay, her guards had learned to tune it out in an effort to grant them some type of privacy. She knew they heard but they mastered the art of keeping a straight face. This had to be the first time that Erin could recall where they failed.

Atwater looked up at her, eyes wide and face in shock. Dawson sat behind the steering wheel, turning into the parking lot as he continuously cleared his throat; -he had been talking to Sorensen when she made her little comment. It seems Roman is the only one minding his business, but he's wearing sunglasses, so it's a possibility that he's looking at them but the glasses hide it. She's focuses back in on the birthday post and taps to comment, _thank you so much baby, this birthday has been so special because of you, love you even though I hate surprises_. She pockets her phone afterwards and looks up to find no one in the car. Jay had gotten out and raced around to open her door, "For you, birthday girl," she slaps his chest as she hops out and he rubs the small sting away, "ouch, you're pretty aggressive today."

It's no wonder why Jay didn't want her paying attention to where they were going because she would have eventually guessed it. The car is parked in the lot of an empty pier. She feels him take her hand and begin to lead her in the direction of a docked boat, "…Jay."

"Just stay right here while I get the keys," he whispered into her ear before releasing her hand.

She doesn't listen. She moves forward, taking slow steps towards the edge of the dock to peer over. Her guards remained in the car. And she finds relief to know they won't be following; that's a birthday present all by itself.

It's peaceful to see birds flying around in the sky. She slept in late, was treated to breakfast in bed, took a hot shower, lounged in the living room as her fiancé serenaded her and then took a half an hour long drive out of the city to go sailing. She didn't have lunch because of her late breakfast and now that it was approaching dinner time, she knew that within the next hour, she's going to be hungry again.

Erin stood at the end of the dock, inhaling the scent of fresh air as the warm breeze blew through her growing hair. She tucked her hands into the front of her pockets, closed her eyes and allowed herself to just live and be in the moment. She's 27. She's so close to 30. She's living a life that she's earned with a man that she loves. She smiles. And she only reopens her eyes when she feels him approach her from behind, wrapping his arms around her waist and inhaling the scent of her hair, "…if any other guy did this, I would find it creepy." She laughs.

He loves the smell of her, "…if it was any other guy that did that then we would have a problem." He laughs in response and she turns around in his arms.

Jay gave her a short kiss before taking a large step back. He needed to put distance between them just to ensure they actually got a chance to sail. She was distracting.

He took a hold of her hand and led her to the boat he had rented. Stepping on first and then holding her hand and helping her climb onto the rocking boat was the beginning of their grand adventure. And it was as he escorted her to a seat and then started to prep the boat for sailing that had her realize that while she knew so much about him, there were still things she didn't know.

Jay manned the wheel and steered out of the dock, "Er," he called out once they were a few feet away, "come over here." Her legs are a bit shaky; it'll take a few minutes for her sea legs to kick in but using the furniture on the boat to guide her had her at his side in seconds.

"…you rang?"

"I want you to steer," he says, taking a step back to allow her to move in front of him, "we're out in the middle of water so there's nothing for you to hit." Her hands grab the wheel and his own grab her waist as he moves back in, pressing his front against her back, "So, you mentioned kids huh?"

"Don't be surprised, we've talked about this," she turns the wheel and he reaches out to grab the wheel to slow down the turn.

"Yeah I know, and we've agreed that you'll let me know when you're ready to start trying."

She holds the wheel, unmoving, and glances up to face him, her eyes squinting because of the sun that will start to set soon, "…I…I'm still not ready for that yet," she whispers as his hands circle around her, palms open and flat against her lower abdomen, "but baby trust and believe that once I am, you'll be the first to know and we'll start trying as soon as possible."

"I can't wait to put a baby in you." He leaned down to kiss her eyebrow.

"…and I can't wait until you put a baby in me." This time when he kisses her, their lips meet.

For the next half an hour, Jay and Erin steer the wheel further and further away from the dock until it was a small speck in their vision, "I think this is a good place to anchor," he says. Once the anchor was launched and lowered, bringing the boat to a firm stop, only swaying when the waves moved beneath it. He blindfolded his girl and whispered happy birthday into her ear as he led her to a seat, helping her lower down before disappearing to the bottom of the boat. He had sent one of her guards to put the picnic basket on the counter in the small kitchen; it held her favorite meals and a plaid blanket. He quickly grabs it, knowing his girl is impatient and soon enough she'll be rushing him and trying to pull off the blindfold.

Setting up a picnic on a rocking ship proved to be harder than what he first thought. The blanket lays perfectly. It was the wine glasses that caused the problems. He placed them back into the basket until he could put them to use. While setting down the plates and pulling out the Tupperware containers, he saw his fiancée's growing impatience as she twisted and squirmed and fought off every desire to rip off the blindfold, "I'm almost finished."

"I don't like surprises," she groaned, crossing her arms over her chest.

"…you'll like this one," he guarantees as he lays out the silverware, "alright babe, on the count of three," he pulls out the wine bottle and uncorks the glass, "you can pull off your blindfold."

"Finally," she exclaims dramatically.

"One," he sits the wine bottle down into the center, "two," he reaches into the basket and pulls out a vase of white lilies to sit beside the bottle, "three," he leans back and nervously awaits for the blindfold to come off.

Even though he was pretty positive that she would enjoy her birthday surprise, he was still worried over her reaction. He never knew what to expect with the woman. He liked that about her though, the way she can keep him on his toes. He watches her face, knowing that her expression will tell him things that her words cannot. Her shocked expression takes its time to morph into complete and unbridled happiness, "Jay…" she finally speaks after an undisclosed amount of time, "it's all…it's all perfect and beautiful and I love it."

She didn't want anything big and fancy done for her birthday. She wanted to keep it simple, celebrating it with the love of her life. And he'd done just that; he'd made her birthday special and catered to one of the things she loved, -food. He'd made her breakfast in bed and now he's taking her sailing on a boat he rented with a picnic packed and prepared all by his hands. She watched as he opened each plastic container and the aroma of all the fatty goodness filled her nostrils; she took a slow inhale, "…is that lasagna?" It was a rhetorical question because she's looking down at it, she's looking at the homemade goodness.

Jay says nothing; he only grabs the other container to open it up. She watches him, licking her lips as he cracked open the second container, -it's a Caesar salad. The smile remained on her face as he sits the container down and grabs the next; it's garlic bread. He really went all out and it was all just for her. And before she could open her mouth to say something again, he grabs the biggest container on the blanket, peeling the lid back in what feels like slow motion.

"Happy birthday baby," he whispers as he reveals a homemade strawberry shortcake and suddenly a burst of emotions fill her body and there's nothing she can do to stop the tears.

"When did you get the time to make all of this?"

"…I kind of got Severide to help. I got him to get you out of the house yesterday evening. I prepared the meal and then this afternoon your guards brought it here and stored it in the lower deck and then they drove back to pick us up." All of that to maintain her surprise.

Her best friend had talked her into going browsing for wedding dresses. It was late into the afternoon and the bridal shop had about an hour left before it closed and for some reason Erin never found it suspicious that Kelly Severide was initiating and willing to go dress shopping with her. It was his idea. And there was no complaining when they were there and she was trying on gowns. She just thought he wanted to get her out of the house since it was the anniversary of Nadia's death; she thought he was trying to keep her busy because of it. It was all adding up now. Hindsight is 20/20.

Halstead grins and meets her eyes when he sees the pieces all adding together. Knowing that her best friend succeeded in his plan was the last straw in her ability to hold back her tears. She let them go. She silently cried. And for some reason, it felt like that's all she's been doing this month. She's been crying and crying and crying and she knew that by the end of her birthday, she wouldn't have any more tears left to cry.

"Thank you so much," her voice breaks as she leans over to press her lips against his. She wipes the smudge of makeup away when she pulls back.

"…anything for you," he says and those words do something to her heart, something that she was in no mood to reexamine right now, "how about we dig in?"

And that was all she needed to hear before he filled her plate with a slice of lasagna, a scoop of salad, a breadstick and a slice of cake. Her plate was full; she could feel the weight of it under her legs as she sits the plate down on the top of her thighs. A silence filled the boat as the two of them dug into their plateful of food.

On a boat, in the middle of the water, alone in the peace and quiet of the evening made this birthday the best she's ever had. After breakfast in bed, she didn't think it would be possible to make it better, but then he surprised her with this. Erin spent her time eating and suppressing the tears that she wanted to release. She's never cried so much. She knows that's just another sign that her time of the month was approaching and she appreciated that it waited until after her birthday to come because she wanted to close the night with a round or two of birthday sex.

"How'd you learn to sail?" It was the first thing she asked even though they're both halfway through with eating; she was getting full even though the idea of going back for seconds was appealing, "Who taught you?"

"My dad," he answers with a shrug, lifting his hand to do the usual tic of his, -scratching behind his head, "he taught me and Will. He used to take us all sailing before my mom died, before he changed. He was never a good dad, even when my mom was alive, but he was a little decent."

He finished his food first and used the time as she finished hers to give her the second part of her massage, starting at her feet and working up her legs, stopping only to start massaging her shoulders. She ate and moaned and half of it was because the food was so good and the other half was because the massage felt amazing. Her senses were all over the place. And so were her hormones as she sat her unfinished plate of food down, "Don't tell me you're full?" He chuckles as he kneads the tension out of her shoulders.

"No," she answers, voice husky as she turns on her knees to face him, "I'm just hungry for something else," she pressed her lips against his so fast and so rough that it takes him a minute to reciprocate the kiss. He sat back on his behind and she crawled onto him.

Erin sat on his lap facing him, with her knees on either side of his hips, aching from the pressure of them resting against the deck of the boat. She buried her fingers in his hair, bringing his mouth forward to latch onto hers. He met her fervently, kissing her with an equal force and passion that she brought out of him. His hands couldn't keep still, one moving to situate at the back of her neck while the other sat just above her waist and there's no surprise that the combination of the rocking boat with the friction of her core rubbing against his that he became rock hard beneath the juncture of her spread thighs, "god woman, I love the fuck out of you," his words were desperate and rushed as he used that moment to gasp for air before pressing his lips back to hers. She smiled into the kiss and tightened her hold on him.

The wind blew her hair in different directions. The boat continued to rock as it remained anchored in its location. She continued to rock against him, she continued to press her core against his as their kiss escalated to a full on make-out that seemed like it was lasting for hours. It was inevitable for one of them to break away because of their need for oxygen, but it didn't stop him from chasing her lips, wanting to continue to kiss her instead of take a breath of air.

This moment, the brief time their lips were separated, she used to her advantage by pulling her shirt over her head and tossing it to the side, being mindful to not throw it too hard or far so it didn't fall off the boat. She began to unbutton his shirt next and he assisted in the stripping of it by sliding his arms out of the sleeves to allow it to fall to the ground. Her eyes were locked back onto his and she smiled, she was so happy, "I love the fuck out of you too," she responded to his earlier words before leaning back in to resume where they left off.

Without disconnecting their lips, he stripped her of her bra, he unbuttoned her shorts and she unbuckled his. Jay's breathing was fast, sporadic and uneven. His erection strained and pressed against his jeans and he knew he was going to need relief soon. Jay dropped his hands to cup her ass and maneuver her around in his grip. Not once did their lips disconnect, not once did either of them pull away as her legs wrapped around his and he leaned forward to lie her down on her back, all with the intention of making love to her until the sun goes down.


	49. Just For You

Erin has her head lying upon his bare chest and her legs are intertwined with his. She's in no rush to get off the couch. Even though it's the first week of May and they've successfully used the last few days of April to focus on wedding plans, it didn't mean they could afford to spend too many days relaxing in bed…or in this case, on the couch. She still had work; he did too. Yet neither of them made any move to get off the small couch and the time was now pushing towards eleven in the morning. She runs her hand up and down his chest and for the first time in a while, she outlines and traces the lines and patterns of his tattoos, of the dark ink decorating his body, "You got another tattoo?" Erin asked, becoming even more surprised when she focused in on what it was. Her initials, –E.L.V.- permanently inscribed into his skin. She wanted to touch it, trace the fresh letters and run her fingers across it, but she noticed it was too fresh.

He did this for her.

When did he do this?

Erin lifted her head from his chest and peered down into his eyes. While her head was on him and while she was running her fingers over his flesh, he had been watching baseball on the television. And by the looks of the score, it didn't look like the Cubs were going to win this game. He pulled his eyes away from the screen to meet hers, "I did." He didn't need to answer her rhetorical question because the tattoo itself was an answer.

"Jay, I don't know what to say."

An emblem of his love for her was forever imprinted above his heart. And just the sight of it and the hesitance in his eyes as he waits for her reaction has her wanting him so much more.

"I have tattoos of everything I love, my mom, my band…you. It seemed fitting. You're everything." His hand lifted a strand of her hair and tucked it behind her ear. He didn't like anything obscuring his vision of her face, "and I've never thought of myself as the type of guy to get a girl's name or initials tatted on my body, but love makes you do crazy things."

Erin said nothing. When she finally registered and allowed everything to settle in, she still remained silent, instead choosing to move her hands to the drawstring of his sweats. She wanted him right now. Her perfect fiancé, the absolute man of her dreams was lying before her shirtless and patient as she untied the string of his pants and pulled them down his legs.

"Is it safe to assume that you like it?"

"That's definitely a safe assumption," she tossed his pants to the left of her and his boxers to the right, "Now, either you take me to bed or you're going to have one sexually frustrated fiancée on your hands when we get to-" she doesn't have a chance to finish because he's kissing her.

He swiftly picks her up, throwing her over his shoulder as he carries her into their bedroom. She doesn't know when he managed to get the tattoo but the days after her birthday were busy from the moment they woke up to the time they went to sleep so she never really had the chance to thoroughly examine his body like she likes to do every night. It's been days since she's had him and based on how he drops her onto their bed and crawls above her, she can tell he's just as desperate and starved as she is. He kisses her again, ravishing her mouth as if he's deprived of oxygen and she's the only person who can provide it for him.

"Fuck," she gasps the second his hand palms her core. Her man was talented in all areas that count and if anyone knew just how great their sex life was, the public would be scandalized.

Jay starts to kiss her neck, pressing his lips against her collarbone before gently biting down onto her flesh. She groans. Loud. Neither of them care if her guards hear. She needs him and she's too impatient to wait but when there's a knock on the front door, Erin realizes that she may have to.

"Ignore it," he growls, bringing his lips back to hers. And he starts to kiss her again but this time, it isn't reciprocated. The same person knocks again.

"Jay, wait," she can hear the whine leave her parted lips as she pulls her mouth away, "it's probably your brother. You were expecting him, remember?" He was but that didn't mean he couldn't reschedule; Erin must have read his thoughts because she followed up his thinking with, "your brother drove all this way in city traffic, the least you can do is have the meeting that the two of you scheduled and then we can finish where we left off when he leaves." He hated when she made sense.

His hands move to rest on her hips and her chest is rising and falling rapidly as she gathers her breath, "Do you seriously want to wait," he raises one brow when she nods, "that's cool but I don't think he can," he nods down to his hard on and his fiancée scoffs before swatting him in the chest, "I'll just think of grandmas and puppies or something." That'll definitely do the trick.

Jay wasn't dressed and he had a little, big problem to fix before he could walk out. She spared him and silently went to complete the task of getting the door for his brother as he went to the restroom. She's still dressed in pajamas and if it wasn't for her wild hair then Will wouldn't have a clue as to what was about to go down only moments ago. She runs her fingers through her hair before opening the door, "Hey," she greets and he steps in and kisses her cheek.

"…hey future sister-in-law," he says back and it has such a sweet ring to it.

Will is holding a briefcase and it's weird to see him with one, especially considering he's dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. She shuts the door behind him, "Jay is in the bathroom; he'll be out once he's finished," she leads him towards the dining room table and watches as he places the briefcase down and opens it, "Do you want something to drink?"

"No, I'm okay." He's acting a bit odd now the second his briefcase is opened.

Erin tilts her head but doesn't question it, "oh…okay then, well I'll get out of your way and-"

"Actually," Will suddenly speaks up, holding his hand out to stop her before she could walk away, "I wanted to talk to you about something."

"Sure," she turns back around and approaches; she doesn't bother to take a seat, "what's up?"

He doesn't answer. He feels it's best to show her. He reaches into the briefcase stuffed with papers before he withdraws a manila folder, "Here."

This is odd. She takes the folder and sits it down in front of her before opening it. And the second her eyes read the first line, they widen and she shuts the folder back, "I'm not signing this," she states matter of fact.

"I've taken the time to draw that up, well technically Mason did, but I went over it with him and it's going to be beneficial to the both of you. You won't be getting the short end of the stick."

"Is there something you're not understanding," she shoves the folder off the table and it opens, the papers falling out and spreading all over the floor, "What part of I'm not signing that do you not understand, Will? I don't need his money. I have my own."

"…then it shouldn't be a problem for you to sign it," he countered, bending over to collect the papers that had fallen to the floor, "I'm just looking out for my brother. I like you Erin, I do, but I'm just protecting him for when the honeymoon stage ends and the reality sets in. I'm rooting for you two, but this is just me being cautious. This is me looking out for him." He shuts the folder after the last paper is slid in, "I'm protecting him."

"I get that," she calms down, her racing heart is mellowing out, "but he doesn't need protecting from me. I've always had his best interest in mind. Always."

"…that's true but that's for right now while the two of you are in your prime, very much in love and living in that honeymoon phase but what happens ten years from now when you two are tired of each other? What happens then?"

"I have no intention of getting a divorce even when things go bad."

"Can you consider it?" He extends the closed folder and it looms between them, "…please."

Erin snatches the folder from his grip, "I'll have my lawyers look over them." She may reach out to Peter Stone; he's always had her best interest in heart.

The folder, she pressed to her chest, squeezing it as if it was a lifeline. She felt no reason to stay out here with Will so she turned on her heel and dragged her feet back into the bedroom. His words played on repeat and her eyes glazed over as if she was stuck in a zombie-like trance.

"Hey," Jay stepped out of the bathroom and shut the door behind him, "what's wrong?" He noticed the look on her face, "and what's that?"

"Papers," was her vague response, "Your brother gave me this."

"What kind of papers?"

And when she doesn't answer right away, he crosses the room and repeats himself, "Erin, what kind of papers?" He takes a hold of the folder and opens it, his eyes practically bulging out of its socket the second he registers what they are, "He's dead," he slammed the folder shut, "I told him not to do this! I warned him to stay out of our life and he-"

Erin pulled him down for a kiss, silencing his rant with the simple touch of her lips, "Let's not let him ruin our day," because their day had started off so good and she wanted to get back to that.

"You're right," He ran his hand along Erin's cheek, "but you're not signing this. I won't let you." Jay holds onto it for dear life and Erin doesn't have the energy to fight it but at the same time, she doesn't want her fiancé fighting with his brother over this. It was easier for everyone if she just sacrificed and signed it once her lawyers went over it.

"Jay, I really don't mind," she reaches for the folder but Jay immediately holds it up above his head, "We're in this forever and since we're not ending what we have any time soon, what's the problem. Your brother will be happy."

"I don't care about his happiness," he retorted.

"Yes you do."

He cupped the side of her face, "I care about yours more though."

"It's obvious he's just looking out for you," Erin doesn't know why she's defending his brother when she's just as upset, "and my dad brought up a pre-nup too so Will isn't the only one."

"…but your dad dropped the subject once you asked him to while my brother didn't." He was growing unnerved and to know that his brother was out there waiting for him fueled that growing rage. He told him not to do this. And instead of respecting his wishes, he gives it to her behind his back. What kind of person does that?

The relationship between he and his brother has always been a rollercoaster of a ride especially as kids but as they grew older and as Will started to work for him, their relationship mellowed out. Any tension or residual feelings from their childhood had suddenly disappeared or were pushed to the back burner the moment Will was on his brother's payroll and had to answer to him. He didn't overstep. Jay loved that about their newfound professional relationship. He didn't mind his brother inserting himself in his professional life but his personal one was a different story, to go behind his back and practically corner his girlfriend with a pre-nuptial agreement that he's already told him not to file felt like a betrayal.

And when Jay felt betrayed, he only reacted out of emotion. All he saw was red even as Erin holds a grip on his chin and is forcing him to look at her. Usually looking at her calmed him down, it typically had a soothing effect on his growing anger but this time, this time it didn't work. He pulled his head out of her hold and walked out the door.

"Jay, remember you don't need any more legal trouble!" She follows closely behind him, shouting the reminder as he moves in towards his brother.

"I never said I was going to hit him."

"Let me explain," Will threw his hands into the air and took a step back, "sometimes I have to take measures to protect you whether you agree with them or not. I know you probably don't understand all this legal jargon so I figured I would take it upon myself to work out all the terms for a cordial divorce if that were to happen. I'm just thinking of worse case scenario. It's the job of a brother and a manager and I'm just doing the jobs asked of me."

"…well now you have one less job." Those words were unexpected by Erin and Will but Jay had come to the conclusion of firing his brother during his trek from the bedroom to the dining room. It shouldn't have been surprising, he warned his brother that this would be a consequence of him going behind his back and pulling a stunt like this. Jay was merely following through.

"Don't be ridiculous." Will doesn't take him serious. He never takes him serious.

"I warned you not to do this! I warned you to stay out of this!"

"I'm your brother!"

"And you only get to keep that title because it's impossible to fire you from it!"

Will takes a breath to consider his words carefully. He knows talking to his brother when he's like this would get him nowhere. Instead, he looks over his brother's shoulder to meet Erin's eyes, "Erin," he starts, "can you please talk some sense into him?"

"You have a lot of nerve," Jay dry chuckles, shaking his head, "she's not good enough to marry me without that bullshit," he holds up the folder before throwing it in his brother's direction, "but she's good enough for you to go to in your desperation. Get out of here."

"I only did what I did to protect you. You don't think about things like this Jay. You don't understand what goes on behind the scenes. I do. It's what I've been doing for you for years, protecting you and handling all of the paperwork."

"…I said get out of here." Jay points towards the front door.

"What about our meeting?"

"What part of that's not your job do you not understand?" Jay was being rash and a bit impulsive. Maybe when he calms down he'll reconsider? But, with Will standing just feet away, looking at him, it only fed his anger, -the anger that he's been working on for months, "I warned you what would happen if you tried some shit like this. None of this should come as a surprise! Get out of here, Will, go to your father, sob to him about how unreasonable I'm being and maybe if you're lucky, he'll give you a job because you definitely need to start looking for one. I hear the unemployment office opens up on Monday morning, around eight am but you might want to get there early. Get out."

His brother merely sighs. His head bows and his eyes close as he tries to wrap his brain around his brother's stubbornness. He runs his hand down his face and opens his mouth to speak, to try to explain, "I wasn't trying to go behind your back."

"But, you did. You brought Erin into this. I would never do that to you. I would never go to Natalie with some bullshit idea like that," he steps forward, his foot purposefully stepping down on the folder on the floor, "I would trust you and your judgment. And even if I thought about doing some shit like that, I wouldn't have approached her with you not around. I wouldn't have done something like that if you were against it, why, because I know you and I know Natalie and I know the two of you don't need outside interference in your relationship. Whatever you both decide is the best for the two of you…and the same goes for me and Erin."

Will swallows, "…Jay."

"I'm not finished," he raises his hand to silence his brother, "I told you not to bring this up to her. I told you to burn it or shred it. I told you to get rid of it. And you didn't listen," he feels Erin's body move towards him, moves to stand behind him, close enough that he feels her hand brush against his lower back, -that manages to calm him, "I told you that if I caught you trying to force her or talk her into signing it then the day of my wedding you can stay home-"

"Jay," he heard Erin's voice.

Will speaks in unison with hers, "Jay."

"I've always followed through on my word," Jay shoves his hands into his pockets and turns to walk back into the bedroom; he didn't feel like arguing anymore, "You know the way out, Will."

And his brother did, so with a reluctant sigh and a whispered apology to Erin, he grabs the crumbled folder off the floor and the closed and locked briefcase off the table, and makes his way towards the front door, stepping through her guards who shielded the outside of it.

Erin stands in shock. Her limbs are unmoving as she tries to figure out what to do. Does she go after Will and bring him back? Or does she go into the room to talk to Jay? She looks between the front door and the bedroom door and the second she hears it slammed shut, it jolts her out of her frozen state and has her moving towards it, "Jay."

The second she enters the room, he pulls her face up to his for a long, lingering kiss. Those built up emotions were coming out in the best way he knew how to express them.

"Jay," she whispers against his lips.

"Gods, I love you," he says into her mouth and then starts to trail a few smaller kisses along her jaw. She briefly loses her train of thought the second his lips latch onto her collarbone and he bites, nips and nibbles the smooth skin against his lips, "love you so much." Maybe she can hold off pleading Will's case for more enjoyable activities? How could she resist? And who could blame her when his hands are slowly drawing her shirt up her body.

-x-

Since the argument with his brother, Jay's been in a mood. He's been walking around, moping about with his shoulders filled with tension. He's been in a funk; his mood swings ranging from anger to sadness and his days spent between making last minute changes and adjustments to the new album, lounging on the couch watching baseball and fucking Erin. That's all they've been doing, it seems the essence of making love has gone out of the window the second his brother walked out of the door. He's too distracted to pay attention. He's too lost in his thoughts to notice that he isn't being careful; he's not being gentle or taking his time to bring pleasure to the both of them. He's hurting inside because despite the anger he felt towards his brother, at the end of the day, Will is still his brother; he's still the only family that Jay has left because he refused to count his father as anything but a sperm donor.

His pride is too much to simply recognize any wrongdoing and apologizing.

And for that, the pent up emotions come out in his passion, in the way he played his music, in how he cooked and exercised and had sex with her. She didn't mind too much; she got a lot of pleasure out of it, but the way his sex drive is when he's upset, is insatiable. And her loins are aching and sore and she's embarrassed because she's volunteering at a soup kitchen and she's trying to stand straight and listen to directions from the guy in charge.

Her hand is held in his and they're being handed aprons and hairnets and they're forced to release their hold on one another. She's ushered towards the string beans and he's directed towards the drinks. Other volunteers are given their tasks –being separated and assigned to either packing the to-go lunches, serving area or the kitchen. She's limping. And he notices for the first time since this morning, "Sorry," he whispers.

"You have nothing to apologize for," she replies, grabbing a pair of plastic gloves, "it takes two and it's not like I wasn't down." She was all for it. She was down for every round she participated in last night and this morning, so many rounds that she lost count as their naked bodies joined together in their bed, in the rooftop pool, in the dining room, the living room, the kitchen and the shower. The way her nails dragged along his back left scratches. The way he thrust into her, pounding so ferociously that it felt like the inside of her whole body was left bruised. It had felt good during the moment but the second she woke up, she regretted the intensity of it, not the act itself, but the amount of passion he evoked.

Erin zones out as she situates the serving spoon. She's so lost in her train of thought that she doesn't hear the rest of the directions but she isn't too bothered by it; she's volunteered on many occasions and she was practically a professional at it. When the guy in charge called out a five minute heads up that the doors will be opening soon, Jay used that to his advantage and continued where he left off, "I do have something to apologize for," he grabs the top of her sweater and shifts it to the side to glance at the dark bruise, the hickey that decorates her white flesh, "I guess I got a little carried away."

He thinks back to the night before, the way they shed their clothes frantically, popping the buttons on his shirt and ripping the seams in her dress in their haste and impatience to bare their naked bodies to one another. In an intense embrace, they joined together, sighing and moaning into each other's mouths at the feel of their warm skin pressed against the other. Jay's nails dug into her thigh as he raised her leg to wrap around his hip, stroking his length against her folds once her legs parted and gave him all the access he desired. Their kisses were deep and hot and filled with straight lust and he didn't waste an impatient second before he slipped inside of her, pounding so hard and heavily that her knee buckled. He caught her but he didn't stop. He only increased his speed, hitting her insides so hard that Erin was afraid he would hit her uterus and it would fall out. Can that actually happen? Last night she made a mental note to google that but the way he made her feel, the pleasure he brought her, had that thought immediately forgotten. It was only planted in her head because of the stretch, the burn and the force of each thrust. He drew her other leg up, wrapping it around his other hip and the thrusting stopped; it was hard to keep up the momentum while standing and holding her up, so it took little consideration for him to carry her over to their bed, sitting down and carefully climbing. And not once did they separate, she simply climbed with him.

Just thinking about the night before has him growing hot with need. If they weren't in public, he would definitely be acting on those impulses but because they are, he had to find comfort in the memory. He thinks back to the same memory, about how he accidentally slipped out of her, about how she sat on top of him and about how she wasted no time in positioning herself before sinking down onto him, both of them sighing in immediate relief when they're joined again. It's a feeling that neither will tire of. He remembers during that moment that neither of them move right away because her body's tingling from the glorifying stretch and burn of his length. He gives her a second, just a second, before he's grabbing her hips and with her assistance, she lifts up and slams back down. That thought alone has him clearing his throat and shifting the front of his pants. He met her with each act of friction, every time she slammed down, he thrust up and Erin knew; she could feel it in her bones that if she wasn't on birth control, she would be pregnant. He grinned when he remembered her sharing that with him, while he was inside of her, while he was pounding into her and he couldn't wait until the day they started trying for a baby.

Jay fails to meet anyone's eyes as he continues to flash to the night before, the night Erin gripped her hands on the headboard as she rode him with every ounce of fiber and energy she possessed. He knows he's blushing at the memory that takes over; he remembers the sound of the headboard hitting the wall with each thrust and the sound of the mattress springing up and down with every pound. He remembers the feeling of her weight falling down onto him when they both reached their peaks, hers in particular guided by the use of his thumb and his length. Her arms weren't able to support her weight but he'd happily caught her in his own, holding her tight and rolling her beneath him without breaking the rhythm of his own thrusts. She moaned helplessly as he stroked her throughout her release, coaxing it to its full extent.

"I know what you're thinking about," she muttered, slapping his chest in an effort to break his concentration, "and you really need to stop." Her eyes fell down to the front of his pants and he can see why she interrupted such a good memory. He moved behind the serving station, using it as a cover to block the growing erection in his pants.

"How long until we can get out of here?"

She shakes her head, "No, we are not rushing this just so you can get your fix."

"Er-"

"You need to talk to your brother," she interrupts. She knows she's sounding like a broken record because ever since the day he sent Will out the door, she's been saying the same thing.

"I don't want to talk about that."

"You never want to talk about it."

The doors to the soup kitchen open up and for a brief second, Jay thinks Erin will let it go. He should have known better. The second she puts the hairnet on her head, she resumes, "You can't keep using me as a distraction. You're upset. It's okay to be upset but you need to do something about it," and when he opens his mouth to defend himself, she doesn't let him, "and doing me doesn't count." He snickered at that because she just knows him so well.

"I just feel insecure sometimes," he admits and god, he's opening up but she wishes they were someplace else, not in the middle of doing community service, "I feel like the pre-nup is a slap in the face and I get he's trying to do it to protect me but we both make money and you are worth so much more than me. I mean…have you googled your net worth recently?" And he's forced to stop talking because people are lining up to be served.

Erin isn't fully present; she's smiling, throwing out casual greetings and serving green beans but her mind is somewhere else. It's on his last comment. Maybe it was something more to it than just Will bringing up a pre-nuptial agreement? It was more personal than that. It was deeper than what she originally thought. She figured Jay thought that a pre-nup agreement was basically predicting a divorce. But, now she wasn't so sure and she needed to find out.

"Jay," she scoops another spoon of string beans onto the tray and gives them a farewell smile. He only shakes his head in response, not wanting to continue the conversation while in the middle of volunteering. People were standing so close and the last thing he needed was to give them a scoop to sell to the media. She can understand that. She nods and continues to perform the task assigned to her, counting down the time until she's done.

It feels like it takes forever. And even when she scoops the last of the string beans onto someone's tray, she's not finished. Another volunteer removes the empty dish and replaces it with another full one. She sighs and continues her job. And she feels horrible for it because she should be fully present, enjoying her time, talking to the people and listening with both ears but she's distracted. No one has her undivided attention because her boyfriend's words play on repeat in her head, _you are worth so much more than me_. She wasn't. She wasn't worth more than anyone. A life is a life. Just because the president and the first lady are her parents, just because she's had a private school education, went to college, got her law degree, practice law and live in a lavish condo in downtown DC didn't mean she was better than anyone else.

Her feet starts to hurt; she doesn't know what possessed her to wear heels of all things. She should have settled on flats, but no, she chose to wear a pair of heels that strapped and buckled around her ankles. She sways side to side; "Uh…" she releases a heavy breath.

Erin's throat is dry and she swallows in an effort to moisten it up. She keeps looking at him in her peripheral and he's sporting an esteemed grin on his face. He's making conversation with the people, joking around and laughing and he does such a great job at pretending like everything is okay. It's not. It's not okay if he truly believes that she's better and worth more; he's so bothered by the thought of it that he stopped talking to his brother the second he's reminded of an insecurity of his that she didn't know existed. The second dish of green beans is empty and she closes her eyes and selfishly hopes that she's finished. She's not. It's traded out for the third –and thankfully last- large serving dish of green beans.

"How come you never said anything earlier?" She's too impatient not to talk and ask questions.

He shrugs, "I didn't really know how I was feeling earlier."

"You make way more money than I do," she says under her breath but loud enough for him to hear, "and money doesn't equate to importance."

"I know that Erin, it's just…"

She continues to sway in an effort to relieve some of the tension off her feet, "It's just what?"

"A pre-nuptial agreement, I don't know much about them, but I know it outlines terms and conditions relating to our finances and any property we may buy together and that's our business; it has nothing to do with Will," she nods her agreement because she wholeheartedly agrees, "and when he brought it up to me, he was adamant and so sure that we needed one and he took it upon himself to go out and get it as if I couldn't think for myself and do it. I don't want one but if I did, I'm smart enough to take it upon myself and seek one out. Money may not equal importance but it damn sure contributes to it, and you know what else does?" She waits for him to answer since she knows it's coming, "Education. It's why a lot of the public doesn't see us lasting. Most of them are even surprised that we're dating or have even made it this long. I'm not smart enough for you and Will overstepping and doing that behind my back because he probably figured I'm too much of an idiot to do it myself or to even understand the jargon involved in it is humiliating. I'm an adult. I don't need him doing that."

"I know." She's so distracted that she stops serving. It takes the woman on the other side of her to tap her shoulder for her to focus and start spooning green beans onto plates. She impatiently waits to finish serving because she knows herself, she knows she'll get distracted again. And once the last person is served and the line is gone, she relaxes her once tense shoulders.

Erin drops the serving spoon into the empty dish and turns to face him, "You seriously need to give yourself more credit," she tugs on his hand, turning him to face her, "you're everything to me and so much more. You're talented, handsome, kind and compassionate," she pulls him closer, "you have such a big heart and you're supportive, protective and brave. And not to mention, you're very smart," he scoffs at that and she rolls her eyes, "I'm serious babe, you are smart. Any guy who chooses me to be their wife is obviously highly intelligent."

"Erin…"

"I know, I know," she smiles at her attempt to lighten the mood, "but screw all who don't like us being together. We've never cared about their thoughts before, why now?"

He shrugs because that was a part of his frustration, "I don't know. I didn't think it bothered me until Will starting rambling about pre-nuptial agreements and how he's trying to protect me and he's doing all of this for me. I'm not a child. I don't need him trying to do all of this because he thinks I'm in way over my head or making a mistake. I'm smarter than he gives me credit for."

"I know that," she whispers casually as she reaches up to run her hand through his hair, "it doesn't matter what your brother thinks when it comes to us. He has no say in our relationship."

"It just bothers me that my word isn't enough. It means nothing to him. He should have listened. When I said no, that should have been the end of discussion but no, he takes it upon himself to go behind my back and do exactly what I told him not to do. He said he did all of this because I didn't understand legal terminology and what not and I'm not an idiot, Erin. Just because I said no to a pre-nup didn't mean that I didn't understand what it meant."

For a brief moment, their conversation is interrupted. For a second, the guy in charge chimes in to thank the two of them for sacrificing their weekend to come and help serve food to the homeless. It wasn't a sacrifice; it was their civic duty, it was one that Erin tries to do every few months but with her job, her charity work, the events she has been scheduled to attend and the now added boyfriend, it's been hard to find the time for volunteering. The last time they've came was during Thanksgiving and usually it's not that much time in between her visits. She's slacking. But, she doesn't see herself coming back anytime soon because of the amount of things on her plate in addition to the fact that she's now planning a wedding and campaigning for her dad. This year was going to be busy but considering all they have planned, it was going to be worth the lack of sleep, the long nights, the constant spending and missed meals.

It was going to be worth it.

And her feet are still aching. The pain and discomfort are noticeable on her face but Jay doesn't question it, not right away because she's talking, "I still think you and your brother should talk," she adds her input and Jay regrets even mentioning his frustration; he didn't want to talk, "I don't think your brother intended to come off the way he did. I know he implied that you need protection and that you might not understand lawyer talk and legal jargon but neither does he. He said your entertainment lawyer drew it up; your brother doesn't know half the shit that I know just like he doesn't know or have half the skill that you do vocally and with your instruments."

He took back his earlier thought. He was happy he told her. She had a way of making him feel better. But, he still didn't want to talk to his brother, at least not right now or any time soon.

"It doesn't devalue you in any way, shape or form," she steps towards him, scrunching up her face because of the pain shooting up her leg from standing in the heels for too long, "you didn't go to law school so I don't expect you to know legal terminology, I went and I still don't know everything. You're into music. You play instruments. That's your area of expertise and that's okay. It's okay not to know everything. It doesn't make you stupid."

"It just made me feel dumb, you know?"

"Yeah, and I also know that you should tell your brother everything you told me." She was holding it together, or at least, trying to hold it together but the mask on her face broke and he saw the pain flash in her eyes. He tilted his head to the side, changing the tune of conversation in order to probe, "What's wrong?"

"I'm fine," she lied so easily and without restraint, "it's time for us to leave anyway, so it's nothing important. I just need to sit."

"Erin…"

"My feet are killing me."

And that's all he needed to hear before throwing out a solution to her problem, "Alright then," he turns around to face away from her, "hop on."

"I am not jumping on your back."

"…why not?"

"We're in public," she exclaims, eyes wide as they practically bulge out of her head.

"Your feet hurt. And right now standing isn't going to help relieve any type of ache. Just hop on." This time he uses his thumb to point over his shoulder at his back

Erin sighs, "Just for you."

"Just for me."

And that's when he knew he won this particular argument.

Jay crouches down, bending his knees slightly and reluctantly Erin hops on. Her arms wrap around his neck and his own come around and grip the back of her thighs. She finds herself squealing when he stands up, "…this is embarrassing."

He stands straight, "Nah, I think it's nice."

"…you're giving me a piggyback ride." She states matter of fact.

And he shrugs, "So, your point is?"

"My feet still hurt though," he glances towards the heels strapped around her feet and he nods towards Atwater to approach, "what are you doing?"

"Kev, do you mind taking those off?"

Her guard doesn't complain. He does as asked and while Jay expects for him to hand her shoes over, he holds them. Ignoring the flashing photos from the cameras of other volunteers, Jay carries her out of the building, following behind her guards as they keep the crowd at bay.

-x-

Tabloids have been printed and Erin's face along with Jay's is plastered on the cover. The headlines range from talking about how taxpayer dollars are being wasted on security; one of the sentences written inside of the magazine clearly expresses its distaste in seeing Atwater carrying her high heels. There are tabloids that gush or condemn her for being carried on her fiancé's back; the cover photo is a picture of said subject of criticism. The magazines and newspapers that outline the aisles in the convenient store and are stacked by the cash register seem to hint towards a slow news day. Of all the things to complain about… To make something big out of something so small shows their lack of creativity and their inability to find solid stories.

"Aw, look at you guys," Severide teases, grabbing a copy of both magazines; he turns to show her them even though he knows she's already seen them, "Does Jay give you piggyback rides often?"

Erin rolls her eyes and doesn't even dignify her best friend's comment with a response. Instead, she watches as the cashier rings up all of their snacks and steps aside to allow Kelly to pay. He tosses the magazine discussing the witnessed piggyback ride onto the belt and she glared the second she saw the cashier scan it, "Are you seriously buying that garbage?"

"It makes for good reading," he chuckled, shrugging as he handed his credit card to the cashier. The amount of snacks and the final cost of everything was way more than any two people needed to buy. And they're buying it all before she goes to try on dresses; she's going to regret that later.

"…you're not supposed to encourage the gossip," she quipped, snatching the magazine out of the bag; she opens it up and flips to the page, "and why is this even interesting enough to read nevertheless to get a front page mention? They should report on the soup kitchen, not on the two lovebirds leaving the soup kitchen. They completely missed the point."

"I guess," he takes the magazine from her, "I guess they wanted to show the world this side of Jay; you see it all the time but the world doesn't."

"Because the world doesn't need to," she snatches the magazine back and scans the page, "listen to this, first daughter Erin Voight was spotted being carried on the back of her fiancé, famous rock star Jay Halstead earlier in the week. The two appeared cozy and very much in love as she hitched a ride on his back as the both of them left church. Fans were spotted nearby, requesting autographs and photo ops but the couple were too absorbed with one another to notice," she slams the magazine closed and shoves it into one of the bags, not caring if pages wrinkled or ripped, "why is that even news? And leaving church, we weren't there for services, we were there to feed the homeless. Uh, maybe Jay and I should just buy a freaking news station so we can hire people that will report on what actually matters. And what I do with him shouldn't matter to anyone but us."

"You're adorable when you get upset," he chuckles, sliding his credit card back into his wallet.

"Ugh, you're so annoying…" She's joking; he knows it, but the playful banter is of the norm for the best friends, "…no wonder you can't hold a relationship."

He exaggerates dramatically, "Ah," he makes a show of clenching his chest and shutting his eyes closed, "that hurts. But, that's probably true." The two of them laugh; it's such an interesting dynamic and she wouldn't be too surprised if paparazzi were documenting this exchange just so it can be headlines on tomorrow's magazines and newspapers.

The cashier was listening; she knew it because it was absolutely impossible not to overhear. He didn't appear to be unperturbed by the conversation, if anything, he seemed entertained. As she waited for the snacks to finish being bagged, she walked over to the other magazine and newspaper, "So, why didn't you buy both? You just got the one with me looking silly."

"…because that one," he points to the other magazine, "is ridiculous."

The piggyback story was harmless fun and entertainment. It wasn't meant to hurt or cause an uproar but the other one, the one complaining about taxpayer dollars being wasted on her guards following her to events that have nothing to do with her role as first daughter or her guards holding her shoes as she's being carried on her fiancé's back, was meant to ignite frustration and anger. There's nothing that can make the people angrier than thinking their tax dollars are being unjustifiably used. Severide wouldn't buy that one. He refused to even entertain the idea.

"You're a good man, Kelly Severide," she whispered, rolling her eyes when she spots the man behind them in line lift the magazine and throw it onto the belt, hinting that he has every intention of purchasing it despite their annoyance. He didn't grab the piggyback ride cover.

Kelly shrugs, "That's debatable," he chuckles nervously, "but I am a bit protective," he reaches for the magazine the guy tossed onto the belt and put it right back. Erin watched with wide eyes.

"I was planning to get that," the guy grumbled. And for some reason any time Erin interacts with members of the public, her guards step forward as if preparing themselves for a showdown. They granted her privacy when she did daily tasks such as this, but the second an interaction occurred, they stepped forward to remind her and everyone else of their presence.

Severide lifted his hands into the air, admitting some type of defeat, "I'm just trying to save you the money," he lowers his hands and shakes his head when the guy tosses it back onto the belt.

"The best way to save me some money is to stop taking taxes out of my well-earned paycheck to guard the president's family," he spat and the cashier was finished bagging their purchase; he had been finished for a minute but they had been too focused on the guy to notice, "I can't complain too much about paying to protect the president. I didn't vote for him," his eyes fell upon Erin because he truly did want her to know that he didn't vote for him in the past and he had no intention of voting for him in the future, "but I get why he needs protection and the pay obviously has to come out of my check, but the family," he scoffs, eyes focused on hers, "the family can just fend for themselves if you ask me. I bought this," he takes it off the belt and personally hands it to the cashier to ensure he scanned it, "to reinforce the reason why I shouldn't be paying taxes to protect you, your mother and your brother."

He had every right to express his opinion. There's no surprise that while many people in the country loved her, there was just as many people who didn't. Some only knew her because of her father and some actually knew her more in-depth than that, they knew of her career and her philanthropy. She knew some people took it upon themselves to research her to call themselves a fan while some didn't bother to probe deeper, knowing that she was Hank Voight's daughter was enough for them to decide whether they liked her or not. It's a part of politics. You can't appease everyone and the sooner someone in politics realizes that, the better they are.

"You know," Severide starts but Erin reaches for his wrist, tugging him towards her.

"It's alright Kelly," she reassured, "it's his opinion. He has every right to one."

"Glad you're not trying to take away my first amendment," he spat, moving forward in line to pay for his purchase with cash, "that's one less thing I got to worry about in the case that your dad gets re-elected. My other amendments, not so much, I guess," He waits for his change and the cashier appears to struggle counting up the exact total; he's too distracted between listening and trying to perform his job.

"You don't follow my dad's platform and campaign at all, do you?" It's a rhetorical question because based on his last sentence, it was obvious he didn't, "maybe you should look into him and what he believes in and is fighting for before you start throwing out assumptions. Educate yourself before you make a decision, before you vote, because your choice doesn't just impact you, it impacts your family, your friends, your coworkers and people you don't even know."

And on that final note, she grabs one bag and Severide takes the other before the two of them lead her guards out of the corner store. The handles of the plastic bag tear into her fingers, turning the white flesh red because of their weight, "Why did we get all of this?"

"…because if we're going browsing for wedding and bridesmaid dresses, I need fuel."

"It's less than a year until I'll be getting married. I think it's time I start watching what I eat."

"Nah," he waves off the idea of that, "you're fine and you always look great. I wouldn't worry about it. Jay's going to love and marry you regardless of how many pounds you may put on."

She tilts her head to the side, "…thank you?" Erin doesn't really know if that was a compliment.

"It wasn't an insult," he laughs, sensing exactly where her thoughts had went, "I'm just saying, you're gorgeous and I'm positive Jay will always think so. The man is head over heels for you. It's pretty nice to see. You deserve that, you deserve someone like that."

If Erin wasn't currently switching the bag from hand to hand, she probably would have hugged him. To hear how outsiders saw her relationship was soothing; she knew she wasn't doing anything wrong or making any mistakes but to know that others, especially those she's closest to thought the same thing was comforting. The two of them arrived at the truck and thankfully Roman reached it first and opened the door, "We'll put the bags in the trunk," he's referring to the shopping bags littering the backseat. They didn't have a chance to do it earlier because the boutique they'd gone to was located in a busy part of town with very little parking so when two of her guards went to retrieve the truck, they had to quickly hop inside because her guards couldn't park and there were cars on the road, honking and rushing them to keep driving.

"So, how's Stella been?" She hands Severide the bag she was carrying as she reaches inside the back to grab one of the bags from the boutique to hand to Roman. Erin asks it so casually but it's been something she's wanted to bring up all day and now seems like the perfect opportunity since she isn't facing him and her hands are busy and occupied grabbing and passing along bags.

Severide rocks from side to side, foot to foot, "She's been good; she's still the same bad ass firefighter. I don't think that'll change any time soon."

Slowly, Erin nods, "…and how have you and Stella been?" She purposely phrased it that way because she knew Severide, she knew his commitment issues were similar to Jay's and he most likely wasn't ready to call her his girlfriend and officially state that they're dating.

"It's all new," he admits, head bowing down to stare at a pebble that he's anxious to kick, "we're going slow." And he does finally kick it off to the side.

"I want her to come to the wedding."

It was too many bags piled into the backseat from the boutique and each were stocked with different things: a lace garter, a boutonniere for Jay's tux –that hasn't been bought yet-, a hosiery, a bridal slip and a few pieces of lingerie for the wedding night. She had spent way more than she planned to spend but considering the pieces she'd gotten, she wasn't too upset. And her mother had text her, sending pictures of things she picked up and ordered for the wedding, pictures of reception centerpieces, bows to decorate the chairs, a throwaway bouquet and a few pieces of real, authentic jewelry that will accentuate any dress Erin chose to wear. Erin appreciated all her mother has done in preparation for the wedding because without her, she would be completely overwhelmed and probably not enjoying the build up to her wedding day as much.

"I thought you didn't want any plus ones," he retorted, moving both bags to one hand in order to extend the other towards her, to help her climb up, "I didn't invite her. I'm just respecting your wishes and if I remember clearly, you said no plus ones."

"I'm making an exception for her," she flops down into her seat and reaches for the seat belt, "I want her there. I've already text my mom the other day and added her to the background list."

"I know what you're doing," he chuckles, shaking his head, "you are so devious." He jokes.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." She did. She always liked Severide and Kidd together. She's found her happiness and she wants him to find his, he just needs a little help getting there and Erin was willing to do what it takes to give that push.

Severide climbs in next, "What exactly are we looking for today?" He changes the conversation so noticeably and effortlessly.

"I'm not planning to spend any more money; I'm just browsing," she clarifies as she opens up one of the bags of snacks to pull out a bag of Funyuns and opens them, "and I'm planning to look at more wedding gowns and bridesmaid dresses and it wouldn't hurt if I checked out the bridal and bridesmaid shoes as well." He reached into the other bag and withdrew a slim jim.

"Cool," he utters, opening the slim jim and sliding down the plastic, "and what made you bring me instead of, oh I don't know, Natalie or Kim?"

"…because you're my man of honor," she states matter of fact.

"And as your man of honor, do I get the honor of throwing you a bachelorette party?"

"Yes," she bites into her chip and continues with her mouth full of crumbs, "you do."

"I'm looking forward to it," he bites into the slim jim and smiles at her meticulously, as if he already had an idea in mind, "I'll start planning right away."

She continues eating her chips, "Just to let you know, it's going to be small and you'll probably be the only guy there, besides my guys of course."

"You think I'm going to complain about being surrounded by beautiful women?" He tosses the empty wrapper of the slim jim inside of the bag before pulling out a snickers, "If you think I have a problem with that then you don't know me at all," he laughed and she slapped his arm in a silent response because she thought back to college Severide, classified ladies' man and she knew that he was now a one woman man but the memory of their younger selves flashed through her mind and she rubbed the spot that she hit him and smiled, "You've really grown."

"Aw Er," he takes her hand, "don't get all mushy on me." His thumb strokes the back of it.

"You have chocolate right there," she points towards the corner of his mouth and when he raises his empty hand to wipe it away, he wipes the wrong spot, "you missed it completely," she laughs. He wipes a different spot and then after the third failed attempt, she wipes it away herself, "there you go and you're welcome! Now, what were we discussing earlier," she taps her chin, "oh yes, that's right, Stella!"


	50. Vision in White

Erin felt her toes curling as her heels dug into the mattress in an attempt to give herself some leverage. He was above her and she lay beneath him. Her arms stretched up, "Yes," she could feel her eyes roll to the back of her head. She willed herself to hold out for him but he was just so damn good at this. She reopened her eyes, smiled up at him and wrapped her arms around his neck, "don't stop." And he didn't. He wouldn't. He couldn't. Not unless she told him to…

Jay is deliberately pushing his hips against hers to drag the faintest and softest of whimpers and moans from her throat. He's encased between her thighs and wrapped up in her legs and he smiled as he grasped the hands that she had wrapped around his neck. He moved her arms and pushes them above her head, making her eyes meet his own as his face hovered closely above hers, "I love you so much," and to prove it, he made love to her, slowly, tenderly, fondly and compassionately, all while pressing the most delicate and gentlest kisses to her mouth, cheek and neck, "I promise to never stop loving you."

Erin met him on a downward thrust and elicited an open mouth gasp from him, one that had her capturing his lips in a kiss as he kept moving above her, slowly, torturously. She moaned helplessly, feeling herself being built up only to fall for the second time that morning. She grabbed his shoulders, squeezing so tightly that her nails dug into his skin creating crescent shaped outlines into his flesh. Erin pulled him to her, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him down so his face is buried into her collarbone. With a choked gasp and groan, he bit down onto her shoulder and came hard, the feel of him pulsing and pounding deep inside of her sent her arching her back and hurling over the edge right along with him.

Seconds later, they lay tangled in the sheets, legs intertwined and twisted as she now rests her face against his muscular chest. His fingers stroke through her hair as he collects his breath, "Wow." It's the only word he could formulate right now.

And she seemed to agree with his sentiment; "Wow is right," Erin reached up to stroke his face, guiding his face down to hers to seal her words with a kiss. And what little energy they had left after their tryst was used in the kiss leading to moments later the two of them falling asleep.

Jay had only gotten in two hours of harmonious sleep before he found himself waking up. Her leg was hitched over his waist with her right arm parallel to it and lying across his chest. This was heaven and no one could convince him otherwise. Her face was buried in the crook of his neck making it easy for him to lean down and brush his lips across her forehead. And the feeling of her there, her warm naked body up against his was enough comfort to lull him back to that harmonious sleep he had once been in.

When his eyes reopened again, he was truly convinced that this was heaven. He must have overexerted himself in that last round of sex and died because to wake up with this beautiful woman, hovering closely above him, sitting astride his lap in all her naked glory was the epitome of his vision of heaven. He felt her press his hands into the mattress and stare down at him triumphantly, "…finally, I got the both of you awake," she whispers, looking at his eyes before scanning her own orbs down his chest to fall on his erected length; she wasted no time in joining their bodies, moving against him and lifting up, only to drop back down seconds later, harder than their last round. She rolled her hips against him, driving out several groans and curses and the whimpers that came from her were in quick succession, "Jay," the sound of his name called out while she was on the precipice of release was one of his favorite things to hear in the world, "I love you so _fucking_ much," and that just so happened to be his second because the way her voice pitched high when she cursed was pushing him closer to the edge.

She did most of the work. Her legs held most of the strain as she used the muscles in them to flex and push herself up only to relax her legs and bounce back down. She took him in deeper each time she thrust downwards. She felt the muscles all over her body flex and she released his hands, finding more comfort in them palming her breasts than being held against the mattress. Her head fell back, "…Jay!"

Halstead could feel sparks erupting beneath his skin. He could feel her own start to jerk above him and all of a sudden, he grabs her waist, and since he now wanted to take control, he flipped them so he was above her. She squealed, giggling softly at the sudden change in position. Her legs parted further when he pressed his thighs closer to hers, stretching her, and thrusting in deeper as he propelled his hips against hers, burying his face in her neck, " _ERIN!_ " He licked her neck, dragging his tongue along the seam, "that's it," he encouraged, firing his hips at a faster rate against hers, "yes!" He bit down, pressing his teeth into her flesh until it left a mark.

Erin wove her arms under his and grasped at his back, clenching on and digging her nails into his skin until her fingers are sliding up and down, scratching him. She held on for dear life because it felt that once she let go, that'll be the end of her. And it was because the silent release of their pleasure was in harmonious unity as the only sound they heard was the soft panting from the lovers and the sound of Nico's claws scratching at the door, requesting to be let into the room.

"…that never gets old," she whispered, placing a soft kiss against his bicep before cuddling into his side, "I hope it doesn't change when we get married."

"I feel like I can 100% say it fucking won't," he chuckled, tightening his hold around her. They were back in their original position with her bare leg thrown over his waist and her arm parallel to it with her head resting against his chest.

"I'm going to miss this." She snuggled further into his chest.

"What do you mean?"

"It's almost June," she reminded, "meaning it's almost time for us to go back to D.C. We have engagement photos to take. My mother managed to book the white house photographer and he's pretty good at what he does. I haven't been in Chicago this long since I was in college. I miss it."

"…then move here."

At hearing that, she lifts her head up. That thought had never crossed her mind. She's often pondered over where they'll settle down but she always figured it would be in D.C. She squints and tilts her head, "Move into your penthouse?"

"No, move to Chicago. We can find a place together. We can put both our places back on the market and move into a house somewhere in the suburbs."

"I work in D.C. though, Jay." And she wasn't leaving her job. She loves what she does for a living, "Why do we have to move to Chicago? Why not move to D.C.?"

"…my band is here."

"And my job is there," she sits up and pulls the blankets up to her chest to cover her breasts, "I just think it'll be easier for you to work in D.C. than it would be for me to work in Chicago."

"…my band is here," he repeats.

"You write the music. You do most of the work. They can fly down when you have new material or you can fly to them. We have options. And you have money at your disposal to use."

"You want me to move to D.C."

She nods, "I do."

"And I want you to move to Chicago."

Erin climbs out of the bed and walks over to grab her clothes off the floor. He watches her get dressed and he's not too happy to see her put on clothes, but she's frustrated. They've reached an impasse and he didn't see a way out of it. He climbs out of bed next and walks up to her, "I want us to finish this conversation," he tugs onto the sleeve of the sweatshirt she put on, "I want us to figure this out because when we come back from our honeymoon, I would really like to return to one place with my wife. I know you hate when I bring up your work and leaving it, but," when he notices her tense up, he's quick to add, "wait, just hear me out. How about you take a year and see where your head is at? That year, I won't work on music or schedule any tours or performances and you take a break from your career. We have enough money. We travel, we have sex and maybe we can have a kid and then when that year is up, if you want to return to law, I'll move with you to D.C. and if you don't, we move to Chicago."

She looks up to meet his eyes, trying to avoid looking down since he's naked, "That's not too bad of an idea," she wouldn't complain about it. A long break for a year is a privilege.

"…I know a little something," he smirks.

"But, what about now? And when will this break start?"

"What about our wedding day? We start in November and end next November."

She considers it. She thinks on his words as she grabs his clothes and pushes them into his chest, "Get dressed please so I can think," Erin takes a big step back the second he's holding his clothes, "I'm trying to figure this all out. If I work these next couple of months, take no more clients and close all my cases then I could probably be done by November. And if I sell my condo then maybe we can get something out of the city? And if we decide to live permanently in Chicago, we can keep whatever house we buy and just use it when we visit the city." She's talking to herself, trying to convince herself, "We sell both places; yours and mine. We look for places here and in D.C. And if we start soon then we can buy two places, move our stuff into the one we buy in D.C. and that can be the main place because that's where we'll be mostly because of the wedding and if we get a jump on it, we accomplish this all before the wedding."

"Is that a yes?"

Erin turns to face him, tilting her head before slowly nodding, "It's a yes."

"Okay," Jay is grinning from ear to ear, "just to make sure I understand what we've agreed to do; we'll sell both our places and find two permanent living arrangements- one in Chicago and one in D.C. We'll stay in your city until the wedding, go on our honeymoon and just see where the year takes us before deciding where to permanently stay."

"Exactly."

Jay rushes to pull her into his arms just as she was about to open the door to let Nico in, "We've just made a huge decision; we should celebrate." He kisses her.

"I can't," she groaned, slowly pulling away. He's following her lips and she grants him another kiss, "I have to go with my guys to pick my mother up from the airport."

"She flies in today?"

Erin nods and Jay immediately drops his arms, "I thought that was at the end of the week."

"No babe," she chuckles, shaking her head, "We're going dress shopping at the end of the week." Erin steps away and opens the door, allowing Nico to rush in. His four paws slide against the ground as he runs by them and then suddenly presses brakes to turn around and follow them out of the bedroom. He was on her heel, following her closely to ensure that another door did not separate them. Erin would pick him up but he's gotten absolutely too big for her arms to hold.

"I guess I could get started on making dinner. I'm sure your mother will be hungry when she gets in," and suddenly a thought dawns on him, "Wait. Where's your mother staying?"

"…don't worry," she laughs, reaching up to kiss the corner of his mouth, "she'll be at a hotel because I am not going to have my mother sleeping on your couch or your bed, not after what we just did on there." She shuddered at the thought. He couldn't help but smirk at it.

"Fine," he agrees and he's actually thankful for it because if Camille stayed then he couldn't walk around naked and he couldn't have Erin whenever and wherever he wanted to have her, "I'll start dinner and you go with your guys to scoop up your mother."

"What are you going to make?"

That was an answer he didn't have, "I'm not sure yet. What does your mother like?"

"Trying to earn points from the future mother-in-law, smart," she walked over to the door to slide her feet into a pair of flipflops before grabbing Nico's leash, "my mom loves Italian."

"You love Italian," he corrected.

And Erin could only chuckle, "It was worth a shot. She has a soft spot for good ol'fashioned American food," she bends down to hook Nico's leash onto his collar, "it doesn't matter what it is, if it's greasy and fattening she'll love it."

"I could bake an apple pie for dessert," he starts heading towards the door. If he's going to go all out for dinner then he's going to have to go to the grocery store.

"There's no dessert more American than apple pie."

Jay steps into a pair of shoes, overlooking the socks because he's just running an errand, "I can do a nice spread of stereotypical bar foods. Potato skins? Buffalo wings? Hot wings? Onion rings? Mozzarella sticks? A few sliders? Waffle fries? I could even do some jalapeno poppers? I could do the whole nine yards!"

"You know you don't need to do that," Erin turns to face him and because the leash is attached to Nico's collar, when she approaches him, so does her dog, "My mom loves you. You don't have to go above and beyond to impress her. She'll like you regardless."

"I want to do this for her, for both of you."

And he does. He goes to the grocery store and buys enough food to last them more than a week. He returns to his penthouse, with time to spare because Erin had sent him a text to let him know that she and her mother are stopping by the hotel first so her mother can put down her bags and rest for a minute. He didn't mind. He had both ovens on and all the stovetop burners on as he prepared the menu he had listed for Erin. The apple pie took the longest and by the time he was pulling it out of the oven, the door was opening and in walked Erin, Camille and Nico.

"What did you do to my dog?"

"Isn't that adorable?" Camille exclaimed, clasping her hands together in excitement, "I saw it in the gift shop on my way here and I had to get it." It was a doggy shirt that said Vote for Voight.

Jay pats the top of Nico's head, "You turning my poor puppy into a mascot."

"But he's a cute mascot, aren't you boy?" Erin dropped to her knees and chuckled as Nico licked the side of her face. She ran her fingers up against his neck, rubbing the spot that he loved so much, "Something smells good," she stands up and goes into the kitchen to wash her hands.

"Dinner is done."

"Oh good, because I am starving!"

"When are you not starving Erin?" Camille retorted, dropping her purse onto the couch, "I swear, I always thought when Justin became a teenager he would eat us out of a house and home, but no, it was this innocent looking one. I don't know where all the food goes though. It just disappears. Lucky girl." She smiled at her daughter before following her over to the table, "So, will I get the tour once I'm done?"

Jay scratches behind his ear, -his nervous tic, "If you want, it's not really much to show."

"All of this looks great, Jay," Camille leans forward to lift the corners of aluminum foil to check out all that he prepared, "everything looks so good. I'll definitely have to take a plate back with me to the hotel. I can't wait to dig in. I'm sure you're an amazing cook."

"Mom, he's a perfect chef. Everything he makes is with love and you'll never want to leave once you try his apple pie. I swear you'll love it."

Erin was right. Her mother had decided to start off with dessert, contrary to the rules she had set forth when Erin was a child, always telling her dessert was for after dinner. Camille helped herself to his famous apple pie and just like her daughter had said, she loves it. And she knows she'll probably be taking half of it back to the hotel with her. As for the rest of the food, his future mother-in-law had treated herself to a little of everything and suddenly Jay had realized where his girl got her appetite from. It was when Camille went in for seconds that the thought was reaffirmed. By the time her fork hits her empty plate, Camille leans back and shuts her eyes, "I think I want to hire you to be the official cook at the White House."

"That's an honor," he says, finishing up the last of his slider.

"If music doesn't work out then you know you have a gig with me. And speaking of gigs," it's like she suddenly gets a burst of energy despite her protesting, full stomach, "The Fourth of July concert at the White House this year, I'm assuming that you're in."

Jay had forgotten. Erin did too. And when he looked over to his future wife and saw her grinning, he knew there was only one answer, "Yes."

-x-

The palms of her hands ran down the ivory lace of the white wedding dress as she stared forward, taking in her reflection in the mirror. She ran her fingers over the material, rubbing out the imaginary wrinkles, "Mom," she clears her throat, swallowing back the tears that threaten to approach, "What do you think? How do I look?"

She could hear the sound of her mother's high heels click against the linoleum floor as she approached her daughter, "Wow sweetheart, you look stunning." She'd come to stand behind her stepping up onto the stool, and slowly encircling her arms around her daughter's waist, relaxing her chin upon her shoulder as the two of them stared into the mirror, admiring the reflection of the white gown. "I wish your father could see you. He wanted to be here but you know…work."

"I know," Erin whispered; her eyes never once pulled away from her reflection, if anything, she stared harder, focusing on every intricate detail, "as long as he's there on my wedding day, then everything is good and fine. Dad has a country to run."

Camille swallowed back threatening tears; she didn't want to stain the dress, "Oh sweetie," she uttered in a low voice, chin still resting upon her daughter's shoulder as they spoke to each other while making eye contact through the large mirror, "He does feel bad for not being able to make it. And he's given me strict instructions that the black card in my purse is to be used on any and everything you want for this wedding. If this is the dress you want, then let's charge it."

Erin glanced over at the bridal stylist, the woman behind all of these beautiful designs, "How much does this dress cost?"

"That depends," the woman answered, stepping forward to examine the width and the length of the dress on her body, "you're going to need some alterations done. And prices for alterations vary depending on the complexity of them."

"How much does the dress cost without the alterations?" Her mother had asked, chin still pressed against her shoulder but her head is leaning towards Erin's head as she directs the question towards the bridal stylist, "I'll take it back with me and guard it with my life, Erin," she looks from her daughter to the boutique's stylist, "I can do the alterations. My daughter lives in D.C. She doesn't live here, so she won't be able to keep flying back and forth for dress fittings."

"It's $3,990," the woman answered after taking a peek at the price tag.

Camille doesn't reply. In silence, she takes a deep whiff of her daughter's scent and shuts her eyes. She's always imagined this day. She always pictured giving her daughter a fairytale wedding before she even had a daughter. She wanted to give her kid the wedding that she never got to have because as kids in their early twenties, Camille and Voight didn't have the money so they'd opted to get married at the justice of the peace. It wasn't as she imagined but since she married the love of her life, she couldn't complain about it, especially because during their ten year anniversary, they renewed their vows on a beach in Aruba.

She could feel the deep intake of breath her mother inhaled, "What are you thinking sweetie?" Her head turned to glance at her daughter and after a small peck to the cheek, she continued, "Do you think this is the one? Do you want to keep browsing? Where's your head at?" Her voice breaks because there are tears spilling over and trailing down her cheeks. She couldn't hold them back any longer because her daughter was getting married and she looked so beautiful.

Erin had looked at and tried on many dresses since she's been in Chicago. She's dragged Severide around with her to almost every bridal boutique in the city. And there hasn't been a dress she's seen or tried on that has had this impact on her. She couldn't stop staring at her reflection. She couldn't stop picturing herself walking down the aisle, arm intertwined with that of her dad's as he leads her towards the man of her dreams.

Her voice gets caught in her throat and she's unable to answer her mother. Camille understands. This was a big moment, not just for Erin, but for everyone that loved her. She felt her mother squeeze her in her embrace, her forearms digging into her daughter's ribcage, "Ouch ma," Erin swats her mother away, forcing her mother to step down.

"Sorry kid," her mother replied a bit embarrassed, "I guess I just got a little carried away. You'll understand one day when this is you here with your baby girl."

"…mom"

"I know, I know, there's no rush. You have plenty of time but I'm not getting any younger and I don't see your brother giving me grandbabies anytime soon so I'm holding out for you."

"…mom."

"I'll shut up," her mother moved back in, wrapping her arms back around her daughter, drawing her into her arms gently, "but just tell me a timeframe. When do you plan to have babies? You do want kids, don't you? Oh gosh, does Jay not want children?"

"Mom, mom," Erin scolded, rolling her eyes when she heard Severide chuckle in the background; he had been so quiet that she forgot he was here, "Jay does want kids. I do too. I just want to be married first. I need to focus on one thing at a time."

"…thank god," her mother sighed in relief, "so, once you get married."

"Not right after," Erin felt the need to clarify, "I want to enjoy married life with my new husband but I will say, after a few months, I won't necessarily be doing everything that's needed to prevent getting pregnant." Camille could read between the lines. And she knew her daughter; she knew that's all she's going to give because it's a conversation she wants to have in more detail with Jay, not with her mother.

"You two are going to have some beautiful babies." Camille left it alone after that.

And Erin chose not to reflect on her words no matter how much she wanted to do it. Erin knows herself, she knows if she thinks about a little boy and a little girl with the perfect mixture of Jay and her, then she would throw out her birth control and probably be pregnant by the end of next week. She needed to remain clear-headed; she didn't need her mother pressuring her to have a baby, not now, not when her life is so busy and chaotic that a baby would throw everything off.

"What do you think, Sev?" Erin carefully turns around to face her best friend. He was lounging on the couch, playing a game on his cell phone, presenting himself as the epitome of bored.

He stands and pockets his cell phone, "I think you look hot."

"You thought I looked hot in every dress I tried on."

He shrugs, "What can I say? You're an attractive woman."

"You're absolutely no help," she rolled her eyes while grabbing the dress from the bottom and carefully stepping down. Her mother stepped down afterwards.

"I have been plenty of help," he defended himself, walking over to grab the bottom of the dress to ensure it didn't drag along the floor as she walked back towards the dressing room, "just in case you forgot, I'm the man of honor, and I take my job very seriously."

Erin smirked, "Unzip me please."

He grabs the zipper from the back and slides it down, "See," he pauses as she holds up the front to ensure it didn't fall and flash any of her goodies, "I'm very helpful."

"If you want to be more helpful, tell my mom that I want the dress," she struggles to walk further into the dressing room because her hands are holding up the front of the dress but the back of the dress is long and trips her up. He grabs her and he grabs the bottom of it.

"I'm way more helpful than you give me credit for," he jokes, winking at her in the mirror in the dressing room, "why don't you hold the bottom so you don't trip and fall? The last thing any of us need is for you to hit your head and hurt yourself."

"…my cleavage," she reminds.

"It's not like I haven't seen it before," she forgets. She slaps him in the chest with both hands. It falls but he doesn't respond or react. He's seen her naked plenty of times and she has seen him.

Almost embarrassed, she reaches down to grab her dress, "Close your eyes," and he doesn't want her to get uncomfortable so he does as she asked. She grabs the dress and steps into the dressing room, pulling the curtain behind her once she's inside, "Okay, you can open them." He does. And he doesn't see her. He smirked and shook his head, tucking his hands into his pockets, "Since when are you self-conscious about your body?"

She scoffed at that, "I'm not self-conscious. I love my body. Jay does too. He just doesn't want you looking at it." Erin thinks back to the beginning of their relationship, back when she first met his friends and she and Rixton had gotten into a debate about whether guys and girls can be friends. Now that they are friends, she should bring that up again and see if his opinion changed.

"I didn't mean to step on any toes or make anyone uncomfortable," Severide immediately followed up with, "we've always flirted in a platonic type of way. I'm sorry if I overstepped."

"Kelly," she slides the curtain open and she's standing in her bra and panties, "that's not what I meant. You aren't stepping on any toes or making anyone uncomfortable. It's just…"

"No, Er, I'm not upset, I really understand. It makes sense."

She tilts her head to the side, almost examining him to see if he's being honest with her. She could read him. He's one of her good friends, she knows him almost better than he knows himself. Erin grabs her folded jeans and slides them on, "I don't want our platonic flirting to stop," she affirms, buttoning her jeans before moving forward, "I don't want anything in our relationship to change," she takes his hands in hers, "Just because I'm getting married doesn't mean we can't still do our movie nights and sleepovers."

"I don't know how much your husband will like me spending the night."

"He's a musician; he'll be on tours. It'll be the perfect time for company."

"I'm not sneaking over," he chuckled, "I won't be hiding in the closets like a bad kept secret."

She laughed, "He's going to know when you're spending the night. I'm not losing you as a friend. We don't see each other like that and I refuse to allow anyone, even Jay, to change the narrative of our relationship. I've agreed not to let you see me naked."

"…you're not fully dressed," he reminded.

"I mean fully naked, meaning you can see breasts and vagina," she clarified, "bra and panties don't count. But, as I was saying, I've agreed to that because it's understandable. I wouldn't want him seeing another woman's privates either and you wouldn't want Stella to see another guy's," she waits for him to nod his understanding, "our relationship isn't drastically changing. I'll always have time for you, no matter how busy I get. If you need me, I'll be there, just like every time I need you, you're there. I'm not planning to abandon my best friend for another man. I wouldn't do that. And Jay wouldn't ask me to do that. He likes you."

"Can you blame him?"

She tugs on his hands, "I'm serious Kelly; he likes you. He thinks you're a good friend; he trusts you. He's reached out to you many times since we've been dating because he knows you're a professional when it comes to the subject of Erin Voight. I don't want anything that we do to make him second guess our friendship." And Severide could understand that.

"You're a good person, Erin," he pulls one of his hands out of her hold and settles it against the side of her face, "you're going to make Jay a happy man." He kisses her forehead before taking a step back, "now put on your shirt and shoes so we can pay for this overpriced gown and get some food in us. My treat…just make sure it's somewhere greasy and fattening."

That gave Erin incentive to finish getting dressed. She carefully put the dress back onto the hanger and handed it to Severide with strict instructions not to allow it to touch the floor. He guarded it with his life, carrying it protectively from the dressing room to the front desk where the bridal stylist and Camille were patiently waiting, "Is that all for today?"

She was prepared to nod but her eyes caught onto a set of jewelry, -earrings, a bracelet and a necklace and while she would normally have her daughter select the accessories she wanted to wear on her big day, she couldn't pass up the opportunity to buy them. If Erin didn't like them, then Camille would keep them. If Erin liked them, then she could wear them on her wedding day. Everybody wins. Camille pointed in the glass case, selecting the three pieces.

The wedding dress is carefully placed inside of a gown preservation bag after she scanned the barcode. She followed that up with reaching into the jewel case and selecting the ones Camille had pointed out, only to place them each inside of a jewelry box, "That'll be $5,442."

Severide whistled upon hearing the cost. Camille happily handed over the credit card. Erin walked out and was handed the gown preservation bag, "What's that?" She pointed towards the small bag, the one with the jewelry.

"Oh, nothing," she had no intention of giving it to her daughter until her wedding day, "just a surprise," Erin rolled her eyes, "and I know you don't like surprises but you'll like this one."

"What did she buy, Sev?"

"Don't you say a word," Camille demanded, holding a finger up to Severide.

Erin merely shrugs, "He's just going to tell me when you leave."

"You better not, Kelly Severide."

"My lips are sealed," he says, raising his hand to zip his lips shut. Camille turned away to sign the receipt and pocket her card. During this moment, Erin looked towards him, meeting his eyes and he winked in response, telling her everything she needed to know in the moment, -he'll tell her later. Ha, she could only laugh in her head, not out loud because knowing her mother, she'll question it. His loyalty was to her, and she knew he would swear her to secrecy and months from now, she'll have to fake being surprised when it's reveled.

Camille turned around and suspiciously looked between her daughter and her daughter's best friend, quirking her brow questionably. He's going to tell her. That much she knows. She rolls her eyes and instead of bringing it up, chooses to squash it, "So…food?"

"It's on Severide; he offered to treat."

"That's right," he says, throwing his right arm around Erin's shoulders and his left around Camille's shoulders, "it's on me. We're about to get some of the fattiest, greasiest and unhealthiest food so Mrs. V, if you're on a diet, consider this your cheat meal."

-x-

As time flowed into the next month, into the month of June, it drifted into a moment closer to their impending nuptials. November was the month chosen for their wedding and now that the wedding invitations had been sent out, they had to choose a specific date in November; the sixth, which also happened to be election day. Neither of them realized that when the day was first chosen, but considering that they want to work around her father's schedule, that would be the day when he wasn't as busy. The day before their wedding, he'll be returning from the third and final debate and the day after their wedding, he had a meeting with top officials scheduled, -and that will happen regardless of if he won the election or not. He was still supposed to fulfill his duties because the next president didn't officially start until inauguration day, next year.

"My mother is pressing me about choosing the design for ceremony cards and thank you notes."

The frustration in her voice was obvious. She was tired of wedding planning. She had agreed to her mother taking charge in the hopes that she wouldn't constantly have to respond to messages choosing between five to ten layouts for a ceremony card. She didn't care how they looked.

Erin text back, a much nicer response than the one she originally thought of, _you can decide, -EV_

She was close to pocketing her cell phone or tossing it out of the window when her mother text her back, _sweetie it's not my decision, it's not my wedding, it's yours –Mom_

 _I want option two, -EV_

Erin didn't even remember what the second option looked like; she didn't care to be picky about the smallest details of the wedding.

 _Are you sure? That color doesn't really go with the color scheme you chose, -Mom_

And this is why Erin wanted her mother to pick. Since her mother helped her pick out a wedding dress a few days ago, she'd been more overbearing than usual. When it came to her dress, Camille had no complaints about it because she wanted it to be her daughter's decision, but everything else from the wedding invitations, the rehearsal dinner invitations and the reply cards and postage to the save the date layouts, wedding programs, tables, chairs and guestbook, her mother had been a nuisance, an absolute pain in the ass.

She has her wedding dress and this month Jay will be going to buy –not rent- a tuxedo. She has her rings; he has his. They have the venue booked and the invitations have all been sent out. Everything else didn't matter to her, well, maybe except for the cake, but that was a task that she and Jay and only she and Jay will do together sometime in the following weeks. She didn't care about the rest of it. She just wanted something simple and sweet. She was tempted to just throw on her wedding dress –even though it was in her mother's possession for alterations- and take Jay with her to the courthouse so they can be married with a random stranger as a witness. This was all becoming too much.

 _Which layout and color were you thinking? –EV_

 _I was thinking the first; it has the blush and the white in it, -Mom_

And this is how it always goes. Her mother makes it seem like she wants nothing to do with the decision-making and when she makes a decision, her mother doesn't agree with it and ends up making the decision herself. Erin just tried to avoid all the extra and get straight to her mother choosing, but it seems Camille wouldn't have it.

 _Good choice mom, let's go with it, -EV_

She just had to make it to November 6th. It seems so close yet so far away. Why did she choose such a faraway date? Erin groaned and silenced her phone, "Is it illegal to throw my phone out of the window?" She asked; part of it was rhetorical and part of it waited and expected an answer.

"I don't know," Jay scoffs, throwing his arm around her shoulders, "you're the lawyer."

"Touché."

"…what's wrong?"

"It's just momzilla," she retorted, uttering the new nickname she penned her mother a day ago; it was reminiscent of the term bridezilla but Erin was far from that, "she's starting to drive me crazy and not in a good way. I just want to, I don't know, shake some sense into her!"

"What happened this time?"

And instead of getting into it and getting worked up all over again, she hands him her phone, allowing him to read through the most recent conversation.

The two of them were on their way to their D.C. home from the airport. They stayed in Chicago for as long as they could before going back to the nation's capital. Erin had done all the work she could miles away but now all that was left was work that needed her to be in the office or in the courtroom. She may have to pull a few all-nighters but based on the days she's spent with her man, it was all worth it. November 6th is the day of their wedding. And July is the official month for the release of Jay's new album; it's projected to do really well and bring in more revenue than their last two albums combined. That's saying a lot.

Jay had been too busy with her to actually plan or know all the details of the official release; it was something that his manager would keep him informed about but since he fired Will, he didn't know how all of that was going to work. He would worry about it later, even though, it was a month before the official month to release. He brushed it off, choosing to not think about it in hopes that the problem will disappear.

Maybe he should push it back until after the wedding? His fans would be upset. And they would probably blame Erin even though it wasn't her decision. His band would probably be mad too; that'll affect their income, pushing their residuals and well-earned checks back to November instead of July. It'll affect nominations for awards too. That's why they selected July in the first place; it was a carefully, crafted decision that'll have them gaining the most benefits.

"If that crease in your forehead is anything to go by, you're thinking really hard about something."

He blinks out of his reverie, "…it's nothing."

"Yeah, we're not starting that."

"It's work," he vaguely answers and by the look on her face, he realizes that he needs to elaborate, "okay, I'm thinking about the album release date. Now that Will is gone, I'm trying-"

"Will doesn't have to be gone and you don't need to carry around the stress. He makes your job easier by doing his job. Hire him back."

"…not doing that."

"…because you're stubborn and your pride is so damn big," she grumbles as the truck parks in the lot of her condo, "if you want, I can do it for you."

He shakes his head at the absurdity of her offer, "I am not sending my fiancée to do my work."

"Why are you so damn difficult?" She groaned, throwing her head back against the seat, "it's absolutely tiring. Just call him, talk to him and squash things between the two of you."

"He overstepped."

"I'm not saying he didn't, but if you talk to him then maybe you can find some common ground." She unbuckled her seat and stretched forward to grab Nico's leash from Atwater.

"If you want, I can walk him while the two of you get ready to head back out."

It was no point in bringing Nico inside when they're supposed to be showering, changing their clothes and then heading back out. Atwater would just hang outside with her pup while her other three guards escorted them upstairs. It was going to be another day of dealing with her mother being a momzilla because they needed to do more wedding planning. November 6th the day of her wedding and the day of the election. Voting booths closed at eight in the evening and the projected winner wouldn't be announced until close to midnight or later if there was a fine line between votes for him and his opponent.

November 6th was going to be a busy day. And in the wedding invitations, Erin made sure to write down a reminder for everyone to participate in early voting because if they planned to attend her wedding then they wouldn't be in their jurisdiction to be able to physically go into a voting booth and cast their vote. Jay and his band were going to send in an absentee ballot before the closing date. That day was going to be loaded with things to do and it'll leave little chance and opportunity for her father to nervously pace and regularly check the poll numbers to see how he's doing. It'll grant him a reprieve, or at least, she hoped so. A nervous Voight wasn't a kind Voight and since this was going to be a big day for her, Jay and the entire country then she could only hope and cross her fingers that her wedding and reception would be enough of a distraction for him to be granted a peace of mind.

Erin held Jay's hand as they followed her guards into the lobby of the building. It felt like she hadn't been here in such a long time. It had been months since she's stepped foot in her home that actually didn't much feel like home anymore, at least it didn't if Jay wasn't with her.

"Ms. Voight, welcome back," the manager of the building had approached but her guards had positioned themselves to block him from getting too close, "I've sent your mail to the White House like you asked until you returned." She nodded and thanked him.

Jay tugged on her hand in an effort to get her to resume walking. She had found herself lost in thought, taking in the lobby around her, the front desk, the marble floors, the people dressed in high fashion roaming the first floor of the building. She wasn't going to miss this. Not really.

"I need to talk to my real estate agent so she can put this place back on the market," she's referring to the one who sold her parents this place a while ago, "and then we can finally focus on searching for the perfect house or houses." She couldn't wait to start because in this home they had imagined would be the home they return to after their honeymoon, the one they will raise their family in and host dinners and holidays for loved ones.

As Erin rolled her suitcase into her condo, she dropped the handle and ignored the way it fell to the ground. She was exhausted and absolutely tired of traveling. Erin kicked off her heels; she really needed to start traveling in more comfortable shoes. She dragged her feet to the living room before flopping down, face first, onto the couch, "We're scheduled to be at your parents' house in two hours," Jay reminded, casually strolling over to the couch; he sat down on the arm and allowed his hand to gently rub up and down the back of her leg, "shouldn't we start getting ready. I've never taken engagement photos before and I have no idea what to do or wear."

"We should reschedule," even though her words were muffled by the throw pillow her face is pressed into, he still understood every word she said, "I'm beat, Jay, and I'm done with traveling." She may have felt that way but that didn't mean she didn't have travel plans scheduled in the future. Erin already knew that to look at houses she would have to go back to Chicago; she just didn't want to think about it.

"…traveling's not that bad."

"Says the guy who does it for a living," she rolls over onto her side to look up at him, "your career consists of traveling the world and performing in front of millions. You're used to riding on a tour bus for hours or flying on a plane and then going straight to work. I'm not."

"You make a great point," he acknowledged, "but shouldn't that mean you should try to start getting used to it. As my wife you're going to be by my side on a bunch of those trips."

Erin groaned. She didn't even think of that. She lifted the pillow her face was once smashed into and pressed it over her mouth to muffle her screech of displeasure. He laughed at her dramatics.

"…why do you have to be so damn good at what you do?" She dry chuckled into the pillow.

"Sorry," he shrugged and it was obvious by the sound of his voice that he wasn't really sorry; he just said it to appease her, "but what I do does grant me a lot of days off and allows me to make my own schedule and when we start pushing out those babies, they're going to be expensive."

She drops the pillow from her face, "College funds."

"Yeah that," he laughed, "but I was also thinking about the expenses of the first years. And you never know, they may not want to go to college."

"True, but if they do, we want to make sure they can afford it."

"A question of whether they can afford it isn't something to worry about." He's noticed that they've been talking more and more about kids since they've been engaged. It's a topic that he would never shy away from because he was looking forward to the day that she'd come to him and say she's off birth control and she's ready to start trying for a baby. He was looking even more forward to the moment she announces her pregnancy.

"…we have time," she reminded in a whisper.

"Yeah we do, but let me just say this, thinking about putting a baby in you does things to me. And to picture you pregnant," his hand falls to her flat stomach, "with my baby inside of you, a part of me in there," he rubs his hand along her lower abdomen, "combined with a part of you, creating someone who I'm sure will be everything and more, from beautiful and talented to smart and noble has me looking forward to the day we become parents. To know that our love can do something like that…" he doesn't finish his thought. Instead he gets this grin on his face as his mind takes him to a fictional image he has of that future. If he had any say, he would want her walking down the aisle with a big baby bump there to symbolize another aspect of their love and how that love could create something so extraordinary.

"…seriously," she groaned, covering her face with her hands, "you and that voice of yours are not helping in the effort of not getting me pregnant because I am pretty positive that after hearing you say _that_ , I have to have you. Now."

And Jay Halstead has never been the type to turn down a beautiful woman, nevertheless the woman who wears his ring around her finger, the woman he will soon enough vow his heart, body and soul and declare his never-ending love to in less than a year. And it was this reason that despite their need to be getting ready to leave, he instead shed his clothes and assisted her in shedding hers to spend his time showing her how much he loved her. She would always win out.


	51. It's Never Easy

By the time they arrive at the White House, they're over an hour late. The couple are met with disapproving looks from her parents and the professional photographer as they are separated and shuffled into separate rooms to be beautified for their official engagement portraits. Erin is pushed onto a cushioned stool and even though she did her hair in the way she likes it best, the hard work had been undone the second her mother's stylist started pulling the hairpins out of her hair, "I liked my hair up like that." She says just as another person approaches her face with a napkin to wipe off the little makeup she added, "I did my makeup already."

"Your mother gave us strict instructions," the woman said, uncapping the red lipstick before running it along her lips, "Hair down, bold makeup. That's what we were told and we're following directions." Erin rolls her eyes as she sits quietly still like an obedient child.

Erin looks around the room, taking in all the finer details in an effort to pass the time. It's a bedroom; it's one of the many bedrooms in this place and it has a historic background but so do all the other bedrooms so she gets them mixed up. This was a former deceased president's bedroom and majority of the furniture hasn't been replaced. She smiles at the vintage setting and maybe, if she's as convincing as she thinks she is, she'll get a photo in here.

"Erin, you're late," Camille scolded, slamming the door behind her, "I didn't mean to close the door that hard. Sorry," she apologizes to everyone in the room before marching over, "I have your dress hanging in that closet," Erin opens her mouth to interject, kind of wanting to wear what she has on but Camille keeps talking, "it matches your make up. You're going to look gorgeous baby, oh; Jay won't know what hit him."

As the respectful and exhausted daughter that she is, she sits like an obedient child as she waits for her face to be made up and her hair to be re-done. She's de-clothed and her mother holds up the dress as her assistant helps her step into it. Camille had too much free time on her hands and was taking control and Erin felt like she had no one to blame but herself, "Don't you have to finish planning the Independence day celebration? Why do you have so much free time?"

"…your wedding comes first," her mother states matter of fact, "and not to mention, I've been doing it for years. It practically plans itself at this point," her assistant clears her throat, "and the best assistant in the world has stepped up to the plate to take charge while I focus on planning your wedding. It's all working itself out really; there's nothing for you to worry about."

"I wasn't worried," Erin remarks, holding onto her mother's wrist for balance as she steps into the heels laid out for her, "I was just…curious."

Camille waves for her daughter to follow her out of the room, and she does, but it's a bit difficult to keep up with her mother speed walking down the hall. She's rushing, holding the bottom of her dress as her mother talks about the vision she has for the engagement photos, none of which Erin was privy to until this moment. She was just going to do natural poses, the ones that came to mind as the photographer snapped pictures, "I had the chef make a few yummy appetizers but try not to be tempted to eat any until after the photos. I don't want you to smear your lipstick or get crumbs around your mouth." Her mother leads into her the living room, it's elegant and it's decorated in the colors she had chosen for her wedding. It's beautiful –Erin has to admit. And what's even more beautiful is the man standing in a well-fitted suit leaning against the fire place, grinning at her, "Hey beautiful." Great minds think alike, she thinks to herself as she walks over and tugs on the tie wrapped around his neck; it matches her dress, "Hey handsome."

Their lips bridge together for a brief kiss but it's soon interrupted when her mother tugs her away, "Erin, save all of that for the honeymoon," she quips, "or when you're going to start giving me grandbabies," the young couple blushes, "but right now, you're ruining your make up and you wrinkled Jay's tie. Hank," she calls for her husband and Erin really wants her mother to calm down, take a chill pill and relax. It isn't that serious.

Her dad walks over, "Camille, breathe." She appreciates her father's efforts to calm her mother down but it doesn't work. She orders him to fix Jay's tie as she waves the makeup artist over to realign the lipstick on her lips.

Camille seems to have ignored him, snapping her fingers in the direction of the photographer before clapping her hands and ordering everyone to get out of the frame, "Let's do the first shot," she announced, placing her hands on Jay's shoulders and moving him to stand at an angle in front of the fireplace, "Erin, honey, come here," she waves her daughter over and situates her in front of her future son-in-law," Jay put your hands on her hips," she didn't have to tell him twice; it's the one direction he followed without putting too much thought into it. Camille steps back and gives the photographer a nod of the head as he snaps the photos, "one with straight faces," she directs and they follow her orders, "now I want both of you smiling," they do as she requested, "and now I want the both of you to look at each other."

With his hands still wrapped around her waist, her hands covering his, she leaned her back against his chest and glanced up as he peered down into her eyes, "You're beautiful." Two photos were taken, one that didn't catch the blush and one that did.

"…next position," Camille marches over.

The following hours are a haze of moments that blur and bridge together to make the evening feel like days had passed rather than hours, -two to be exact. And the moment the photographer puts his camera down, Erin releases a relieved exhale, "Glad that's finally over." Her mother, aka momzilla, had taken control, positioning them in different poses in different rooms, ranging from the living room to the dining room, the foyer and even a few outside. The sun was setting and Erin couldn't lie, the photo of her and Jay kissing in front of the sunset was absolutely beautiful. Maybe her mother did have an eye for all of this?

Nico had even managed to get in two of the photos, against her mother's better judgment, but when the puppy looked up at her with those big brown eyes, Erin knew, it was the one argument she was willing to fight her mother on. They compromised. Camille didn't want either of them holding him, out of fear that he'll mess up their outfits, but like the good puppy he is, he sits at their feel, tongue hanging out of his mouth and lips resembling that of a smile. Erin ruffles the top of his head, "…such a good boy," after she looked at how the pictures turned out on the camera, and her dog was so photogenic, it made him the perfect pet for a public figure.

Between pictures of the two of them kissing on the lips, the cheek or the top of the head in front of the sunset, in front of the fireplace, in the hallway and at the top of the grand staircase, those captured the essence of their love for one another combined with the photos of them holding hands and walking barefoot in the south lawn, leaning against each other with their foreheads pressed together, staring into each other's eyes as Jay whispered sweet nothings to her, zoomed in pictures of her hand sporting the large, elegant engagement ring and the two of them embracing in a hug, or him holding her in his arms bridal style or carrying her on his back. It was moments of pure joy and pleasure and it captured the public perception of their courtship.

But, the second Camille is called away because of a mistake in the planning for the Independence day celebration, Jay and Erin used that to their advantage. He grabs the photographer's camera and practically slams it into his chest with a whispered, "you're not done yet," the room is empty and the couple has every intention of taking advantage of that, "and try to keep this between us. These photos aren't for public release." The photographer nods. And if he had a guess as to what the next few pictures were going to be of, he would have been completely wrong. The couple was having fun.

She fed him a chocolate covered strawberry. And if Camille saw them, she would be scolding her for eating one of the finger foods right now. She was supposed to wait until they were done.

He captured that picture before capturing the next. Jay licked the chocolate off the corner of her mouth. She giggled and swiped a dollop of whipped cream onto his nose. He caught that too.

She hopped into his arms, her dress riding up as she wrapped her legs around his waist. He took that photo after turning his lens to zoom out. Jay kissed her, and he took multiple shot of that even as it escalated. He was starting to get uncomfortable, watching as Jay's hands moved down her backside, squeezing her ass as the opposite hand rode up her thigh and disappeared underneath her dress. He cleared his throat, reminding them of the third wheel in the room.

"Sorry," Erin is set back on her feet. She straightens her dress as Jay stares down at the floor, scratching the back of his neck as the staff, the president and first lady make their way back into the room, all of whom were none the wiser of what had just transpired.

Camille claps her hands to gain everyone's attention, "Between the Fourth of July celebration next month and my baby's wedding in a few months, we're going to be busy here," she announces to the staff, "thank you all in advance for everything that you all have done and will do," she turns to her daughter and future son-in-law, "you two, I need to know when you're going to sample wedding cakes."

"…sometime this week or the next."

"Try to do it this week," Camille says and leaves no room for argument, "and make sure it's not red velvet, I'm not that much of a fan."

"It's a good thing it isn't your wedding then," Erin remarks. And neither of them realized that side conversations were taking place until everyone stopped talking, staring at Erin as if shocked that she had the audacity to speak back to her mother, nevertheless; the first lady.

Her mother chooses to ignore it and continue, "I found the perfect table decorations and napkins for the reception that match your color scheme," Erin nods and whispers her thanks for that, "I sent the napkins out to get engraved with you and Jay's initials," Erin whispers that the thought of that was sweet, "I also put in an order for around one hundred blush colored balloons that will have E and J on them. I think that's all the new updates I have since the last time we spoke. Oh, I do have a question…what plans do you have for a rehearsal ceremony and dinner?"

"We can do the rehearsal ceremony but do we really need the dinner?"

"…yes."

"No…"

Her parents answered in unison. Now her dad was chiming in. Camille and Hank glanced at each other and her mother nodded to allow her dad to speak first, "I don't think the dinner is necessary. We didn't have one so why should she?"

"It's absolutely necessary, Hank! And we didn't have one because we didn't have an actual ceremony wedding. She needs to have one," she turns to face her daughter, "you're having one, I can schedule it sometime after the Fourth of July celebration because I don't have time to plan it right now. We'll do a rehearsal ceremony and dinner and at some point the two of you need to get your marriage license."

"Mom-"

"We don't need to hire security for the actual ceremony because this place has built in security in the form of secret service. I believe most of the decorations have arrived or are on their way so we can check that off the list too. If I think of anything else that needs to be added, I'll just go ahead and order it but nothing else comes to mind right now."

"Mom-"

"The linen, dishes and centerpieces are taken care of. And there's no need to book a caterer, servers or bartenders because the staff here can perform those tasks, less background checks to do too."

"MOM!"

She shuts up. She meets her daughter's eyes and she sees the hidden emotion behind them.

"Can you please calm down? You're turning into momzilla." It's the only words uttered by her daughter before she storms off, slamming the door behind her and even though Camille slammed a door earlier, it wasn't intentional; her daughter slamming the door obviously was.

Jay makes a natural move to follow her, grabbing a finger food off one of the nearby trays before excusing himself from the room. He doesn't know this house and it's easy to get lost but that doesn't deter him from running down the halls in search of that beautiful red dress. And eventually, after getting turned around once or twice, he spots it. She's in the hallway, her back leaning against the wall and her hand cradling her forehead.

"Hey," he murmured in a soft and comforting voice, slowing down and approaching her as if she's a wounded animal that may attack at the first sign of danger, "I grabbed you a quiche," it was obvious he didn't really know what to say, "I don't even know what this is, sounds pretty fancy but one of the staff members suggested I try one while you were talking to your mom and I did and it's pretty good so I thought you might want one too." His lips curled into a small smile when she reaches for the napkin he has the quiche wrapped in.

She took a seat on the floor, back resting against the polished wall and knees drawn up to her chest. She sat the napkin on top of her knees and began breaking off pieces of quiche, sticking the pieces in her mouth, "You okay?" He takes a seat beside her.

"Yeah," she drops another piece of quiche in her mouth, "she's being such a momzilla and I can't take it right now. I want to pull out my hair and scream every time she talks. I know it's coming from a good place, I do, but it's frustrating, you know?" He nods.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

She gave a heavy sigh and then handed him the rest of her quiche, "There's not really much to say. She's supposed to make all this wedding planning easier for me. I mean…I thought she was going to take all the stress off of me but she's only adding to it."

"It's never easy planning a wedding."

Erin quirks a brow at his remark, "…yeah, I know, I get that, hence why I wanted my mom to plan it," her retort came off a bit harsh and mean but she didn't care. He's supposed to be taking her side, not trying to defend her mom or whatever it is he's doing.

"…and she's planning it."

"I don't want to argue with you too," she sighs, watching him eat the last of the quiche. He wipes the tip of his fingers on the napkin before responding, "I don't want to argue either but maybe your mom is getting stressed too. Maybe she's trying to give you the perfect wedding? Maybe she's trying not to disappoint you and that's putting pressure on you?"

And maybe her fiancé was right. Erin squeezed the bridge of her nose and rolled her eyes, "I hate it when you're right," she tosses her head back, bumping it up against the wall.

Jay didn't say anything, only offered her a small smile. He looked up at her, his eyes dark and full of an unspoken emotion as they bore into her orbs. He wraps his arm around her shoulders and pulls her in close, "Does that mean you're going to go in there and apologize?"

"She keeps overstepping," Erin grunts, leaning over to lay her head upon his shoulder.

"Yeah, but she's your family and she's doing all of this because she loves you, whether you see it or not, or whether you want her to take a step back, is all out of love. She thinks she knows what's best for you when she makes decisions without your input."

She pulls away but she doesn't go too far, "You know," she turns to face him, "if only you would follow your own advice then everything will be all for the better." She makes a point. And as he considers his words, he realizes that his advice to her could apply to his own situation with his brother. Damn it, he had his moment of being right and having the glory of being the knowledgeable one and she turns it around on him.

"Ugh Er," she was right and he knows it.

"Yeah, yeah, I love you too," she pats his chest and pushes herself back up to her feet. She extends her hand to offer him assistance in getting up, "Let's give it a day or two and then be adults and apologize to them for flipping out."

-x-

It took more than a day or two for either of them to apologize, not because of pride, but because of something else. Eventually they'll get to it, but with the days that have gone by being filled with work and wedding planning, neither of them had the time to make those phone calls. And today wasn't looking like it'll be going in that direction either. It's Nadia's birthday. It's that time of year again that everyone in her inner circle waits with batted breath because no one knows how she'll react. Last year, Jay was with her. This is the second time they're spending the day together and even though the years prior had her spending it alone on purpose, he wouldn't allow for that this year. She has him now. There's no need to suffer alone anymore.

There are two days out of the year that everything is at a standstill: Nadia's birthday and the anniversary of Nadia's death. Erin has no intention of going anywhere. She typically works on Nadia's birthday in an attempt to stay busy and keep her mind occupied. This year, her boss gave her the day off; she regrets even asking for one. She honestly didn't even think he would agree to it. Erin lies on the couch in the living room, blanket over her legs and a cup of hot chocolate clasped in her hands, "Is there anything else I can get you?" She looks up to meet Jay's eyes.

"No thank you," she sets her mug down on the coffee table, "this is enough." It's the first year her guards notice that she's talking, that she hasn't cried yet and she appears to be herself.

She remains on the couch, legs stiff because she hasn't walked on them since she walked from her bedroom to the living room to plop down on the sofa early this morning. Her cell phone is on her lap, and she's ignoring text messages because she's swiping through photos of her best friend's tombstone, smiling at the sight of it decorated with flowers, "Happy birthday Nads," she whispers and it's the first time that her eyes water today. She blinks the tears out of them, "Come on Erin, you've been doing so good today, get it together," she tells herself as if she didn't have a valid reason to cry, "Don't cry."

Erin receives photos from Kelly who paid a visit to Nadia's grave the day before and the sight of it does something to her heart, it flutters it. She finds comfort in knowing that Nadia wasn't alone. Erin finds peace in sitting her phone face down beside her hot chocolate, and extends her hand for the remote, flipping on the television to turn to a cartoon that'll have her laughing. And it does just that, she spends the next few hours, lying on the couch, watching cartoons and chuckling so hard that her stomach starts to cramp up. It's music to Jay's ears; it's a melody to the ears of her guards because this is the first time since Nadia's death that she's expressing feelings other than sadness. It's growth. It's healing. It's beautiful.

"Sweetheart," Erin pulls her attention away from the marathon she had been consumed by in over to avert it over towards her mother who's entering her condo along with her dad and brother, "It's good to see you smiling," and the smile disappears, "I've been trying to call you."

She scans the room for Jay. She'd been too consumed with watching television that she had absolutely no idea about her fiancé's whereabouts…that is until she spots him in the kitchen cooking. His back is to them but he takes the occasional glance over his shoulder to make sure that she's alright, "I uh…I know. You know I don't like taking calls on this day."

"Your mother figured you needed a distraction," her dad chimes in. And Erin suddenly realizes that she cannot recall the last time her dad stepped foot in her condo. He's always been too busy.

"..tv is a good distraction," she turns back to face the large flat screen hanging above her fireplace, "If you don't mind…I was in the middle of a show."

"I told her this was a bad idea," Justin adds, kicking off his shoes before making his way to the couch, "scoot over," and once she does, he plops down.

Camille holds up two bags, "I brought dinner." The last time she checked food was a great way to comfort even the most broken of hearts. But, her daughter didn't appear to be so broken. It wasn't the image that she conjured up. She pictured her daughter's hair unkempt, her clothes disheveled, bags under her eyes and crying so hard that any attempts of comforting wouldn't work. None of that is what she was met with.

Jay leaves the kitchen, drying his hands on a dishtowel before draping it over his shoulder, "I already started making dinner." Erin honestly didn't even notice it was the afternoon. Time seemed to have escaped her while she was so engrossed into cartoons. He approached the back of the couch and rested his hand on Erin's shoulder, "I'm making lasagna." Her favorite. She smiles and reaches over to cover his hand with her own, squeezing it gently as she whispers her thanks, "I appreciate you so much."

Her parents watch the two of them interact. Voight grunts as he carries himself over to the refrigerator to grab a beer before flopping down into one of the arm chairs, "…any sports on?"

Erin rolls her eyes before tossing the remote to her father, "The least you could have done was bring me a beer too," she retorts as her father flips to a baseball game.

"Here you go," her mother extends the beer. At some point she made her way to the kitchen to grab one for her, "…and it looks like your hot chocolate has gotten cold, want me to heat it up?"

"…if you don't mind."

"Of course I don't," Camille leans forward to peck her daughter's forehead before stepping away with the mug of hot –cold- chocolate in hand.

She sits on the couch, drinking her recently heated up hot chocolate and diving into the slice of lasagna that Jay cut for her. She's surrounded by family and the moment; the day itself had almost ended perfectly…if it wasn't for the email notification that recently pinged her phone. She doesn't give it a second thought; she opens it immediately the second she realizes it's from the grave keeper, the overseer of the cemetery that Nadia's tombstone resides.

He has her email and she pays him regularly to keep fresh flowers on Nadia's grave. It's a beautiful set up and she finds peace in knowing that her closest friend's tombstone is visited and decorated by the assortment of flowers the keeper brings along with him.

"Erin," her dad calls out and before she can open the email, she looks up, "you're missing the game. It's getting good. Our team just took back the lead."

"I just need to check this real quick."

And she does, she opens the email to find a photo attached. It's of Nadia's headstone and if the gasp that emits from her mouth wasn't a signal enough that something was wrong, it was the phone falling from her hands and landing between the cushions on the couch.

"…Er," Jay sits his unfinished plate of lasagna down on the coffee table, "what's wrong?"

She doesn't answer. She stands up, maneuvers through her loved ones before leaving the living room. It takes a second for Justin to grab her phone and it takes a second longer for him to pass it along to Jay, "Someone vandalized it."

"What?" Camille snatches the phone away from her future son-in-law.

Voight sits up and mutes the television, "What does it say Cam?"

"The groundskeeper emailed and said a few college kids were caught drinking and spray painting all of the tombstones," she turns the phone around to show them the picture of Nadia's grave; the flowers were smashed and babe was spray painted in pink across her name, "they've all been arrested and are going to be charged with trespassing and destruction of property. But still…"

"It's damaged," Jay finishes, shaking his head because sometimes kids can be heartless pricks. He rises to his feet, brushing his hands across his pants and when Camille makes a move to go after her, he holds his hand out to stop her, "I got this."

"She might need her mother."

"With all due respect ma'am, I should be the one to go back there."

Camille was prepared to argue that, she was actually going to either dispute or ignore his words and make her way towards her daughter's bedroom instead, but at some point her son had placed his hand on her shoulder and whispered, "Mom…"

"I know what you're going to say," she sighs in defeat, waving for Jay to go, "I'll stay out here and see what I can do. I'll respond to the grave keeper and hopefully a few transferred bills on my end can get that tombstone replaced."

The family divided and conquered. While her parents and brother remained in the living room, Jay had tiptoed into the master bedroom. He knew this day was too good to be true. He should have expected something to go wrong. Was it too much to ask for Erin to be able to smile and appreciate this day? Was it too much to ask for Erin to grieve her friend with joy and laughter versus solitude and sorrow? He expected to see her lying face down, diagonally on their bed but she isn't there. She's not at the window seat, staring out at the view either.

"Erin…" he calls out, knowing there was a limited amount of places she could be. He saw her disappear into the bedroom so that meant she was either in the closet or the bathroom.

When she doesn't answer, he calls for her again, "Erin, please…" he opens the closet but he doesn't find her. He knows she has to be in the bathroom and that assumption is proven when he hears the shower turn on.

He enters without a plan.

He goes inside without any idea on what he is going to say.

He'll just take a page out of her book and be present, offer words of comfort and think before he says anything. He doesn't want to make the situation worse.

Erin doesn't bother looking up when she hears Jay climbing into the shower and shutting the door behind him. She hides her face in her hands, knees drawn to her chest and she tries to hold in her tears. She feels him move to stand in front of her, obstructing the impact of the stream of water from hitting her as it now drums against his back, his clothed back, "Look at me baby," she does as he requests and when she lifts her head, her puffy red eyes meet his, concern immediately coloring his face as he appraised her saddened look, "It's okay," she lied; it wasn't okay. She leaned her head back against the shower wall in frustration, "It's okay."

She couldn't stop sniffling. Her lower lip kept quivering.

Jay towered over her, the water showering his body as he crouched down to take a seat beside her, reaching out to wrap his arm around her shoulders to pull her in close, but she moved away, "Come here baby…" he choked sadly when she moved out of his reach; he extended an outstretched hand and waited patiently, " _please_."

She bit her lip. She shook her head, flinching away from him when he moved closer.

Jay brushed his fingertips against the soft, wet skin of her cheek, moving a damp lock of hair from her face so his view wasn't obstructed, "Erin…" he chided softly, "talk to me please."

She was shivering, growing cold under the cool stream of water. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and hold her close without ever letting go, "Come here Er."

"…no," she whispered, shaking her head and the wet strands accidentally slapped him in the face, "…no."

"That wasn't a suggestion," he whispered, reaching over to pull her into his arms; he held her tight, he pulled her in close and he kissed the side of her head. Jay feels her shiver in his embrace and he knows he needs to get her out of those wet clothes and under a warm blanket, "Come on," he soothes, gathering her into his arms and standing them up in the shower, "watch your step, I don't want you falling," he kisses the side of her head; he's unable to keep his lips off her, he can't stop soothing her with his kisses, "let's get you out of these clothes."

For a brief second, he moves away to turn off the water. He keeps one hand on her but the other is what turns the knob to shut off the stream. He feels her shiver against him when he proceeds to wrap one arm around her waist and the other grasped the wet hair at the back of her head, bringing her face into his shoulder and holding her tight as the sobs started to rake her body, "I've got you," he whispered into her hair, "I've got you…always, always, Er," his lips pressed against her ear as he spoke words of comfort, "let it out."

"I can't go back out there," she cried into the fabric of his soaked shirt.

"Hey," he pulled her head away only to look into her eyes, "who said you were going back out there, Er? No one is going to make you go. You're going to stay right here…with me," he asserted with such avowal that she believed him.

Jay's eyes grew soft as he moved a strand of hair behind her ear, "I hate to see you cry," it pains him to see it but there's nothing she can do about it right now.

"I didn't want to cry. I was doing so well, but something had to ruin it."

"If it makes you feel any better, your mom is working to get it replaced. It's going to look brand new," he offers but based on the look on her face, it didn't help much.

"This is the first time I spent this day with my family since Nadia's death," Erin admits; the two of them are in their bedroom now and she's sitting on the bed, sopping wet, as Jay goes to her dresser to grab her a dry pair of pajamas, "I didn't want to spend today with them either but they didn't really give me a choice. They showed up unannounced and I'm not too mad at them. It was nice. It was a good day, but…"

"…then you got that e-mail," and Jay couldn't blame the grave keeper; he didn't know and he was only doing his job but maybe this time around, he'll give the guy a heads up and maybe ask for him to email Jay if something goes wrong instead of Erin.

"I tried really hard Jay," she says as she peels herself out of her wet clothes, "I wanted today to be a day filled with baseball, your famous lasagna and my loved ones but it's like I can't be happy on her birthday or anniversary because if I am then something goes wrong."

"It's never easy Er," he reminds, changing out of his own wet clothes, "death," he clarifies, "it's never easy to deal with and handle. It took me a really long time to actually look at a photo of my mom after she died. It didn't just happen overnight. Some songs I listen to remind me of her and I feel myself getting emotional but that doesn't mean my grieving process is being set back. It's normal, don't knock yourself for that."

A silence befalls over them and the only sound that's heard is Jay pulling the comforter back on the bed. He pats the spot, hinting for her to crawl over and lie down, granting him the chance to tuck her in like a little girl, "Are you warm?"

She chuckles, "I'm not a baby, Jay."

"Your nose is a little red," he kisses it, "And you're a little cold, you're practically shivering right now," he grabs a spare blanket off the window seat and spreads it over the comforter that covers her, "I should make you a fresh batch of hot chocolate with extra marshmallows."

"That sounds lovely…"

"Are you feeling better?"

She nods, "…much. Thank you."

He grabs the remote and hands it to her, "Anytime, Er, and I mean it. We're about to get married soon. This is the least I could do for you after everything you've done for me."

"I think we're pretty even."

"You opened my heart up to love," he admitted, drawing her hand between both of his, "before you, I've never been in a serious relationship, I've never had anything like this before and I thought it was impossible for a guy like me to feel the way I do, but you…you're something special and I've had many regrets in life that I realize aren't regrets at all because they led me to you, to this moment, to us." He leans forward to kiss her before patting her leg and stepping away, "Now, I'm going to get rid of our guests, make you a fresh batch of hot chocolate and then come back here to either watch a movie of your choice or to hear a few reminiscent stories about the good old days with you and Nadia."

Erin mouthed to him just how much she loved him. And he mouthed the same back. She chuckled when he bowed and stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him. There's this peaceful look on his face; his expression is so calm but the moment he turns around and bumps right into his future father-in-law that expression suddenly changes from tranquil to confused. He sees them –all of them- standing so close to the bedroom door that it's obvious they were eavesdropping and before he could call them out on it, Camille has him in a hug.

"I love you, Jay," she tells him and she sounds like she's on the verge of crying even as she draws his face into her hands and pecks his cheek, "I have the tombstone all figured out. The two of you don't need to worry about any of that, okay? Just focus on your love for one another, your wedding and your upcoming performance. I'm honored to be your mother-in-law, sweetheart." He gave her cheek a kiss before maneuvering by her; he still needed to straighten up the living room, put the food away and make her hot chocolate. And based on the purse in Camille's hand and the fact that each of them are holding their jackets shows that they're about to leave so there's no need for him to kick them out.

He waves to Justin as he goes to the front door, pulling it open for his mother to walk through.

It's when he takes one step in the direction of the living room that he listens out for the door to close, but it never shuts, at least not right away. He doesn't question it because he knows her guards are positioned outside the door and there's no way for anyone to enter without them knowing. He continues on into the living room, grabbing the used dishes, "Thank you," he overheard the raspy voice of his future father-in-law, and when he turned around –arms full of dishes- to see who he had been talking to, he realized that it was him, "Thank you, Jay," Voight says before nodding his farewell and stepping out of the condo, door shutting and locking behind him.

-x-

It's getting closer and closer to Operation: Wedding Day. And now that the hardest days were over, she was able to focus on the present.

Sampling different types and flavors of wedding cakes was next on the to-do list and it was Erin's favorite part of wedding planning. It was the one thing that she wanted complete control over, it was something she didn't need help doing. She was a food connoisseur many could say and she truly took that as a compliment. She stepped into the building after Jay opened the door for her and with his hand against her lower back he guided her inside, "Thanks babe."

He smirks, "Anytime." Her guards followed in behind them.

The young couple intertwine hands as they approach the baker, sitting at a high top with a notepad and pen in front of him, "Welcome, I'm Damien," he greets with a Midwestern accent, "and my mother isn't here, but I assist her in baking the cakes; her name is Helen, and she absolutely adores your father, voted for him last election and she plans to do the same this one too. I just want to say that I'm truly honored the two of you decided to give my little baker's shop your business. I will not disappoint you, but first I must ask how did you hear about us?"

Jay and Erin look at each other before Erin looks back to the baker, "…the internet. I was googling around for a baker and you were close by and the pictures on your website were amazing and all the cakes you posted look so scrumptious."

"That means a lot, Ms. Voight," the guy blushes as he fails to meet her eyes.

"Please call me, Erin, I insist."

"I will," he nods, drawing up his notepad and jotting their name down at the top, "now, first things first, before we get into the actual sampling of the cakes that I've laid out for you, I just need to know some wedding logistics. What day will the two of you be getting married?"

"November 6th of this year," Erin answers.

"Around what time will the reception be?" He asks as he jots down her prior answer.

"…around the afternoon, probably three or fourish."

Jay stands to the side of his fiancée, watching his girl as she answers the questions. He needed to know the amount of people who will be attending and Erin gave him a range since they're still waiting for the RSVPs; they don't know the exact amount yet.

"Last thing before we can start with tasting the cakes," he says, earning the excited bounce in Erin's step as they followed him to a back room, "where will the reception be held?"

"The White House," the baker drops his notepad and his pen. Atwater picks it up for him. Damien slowly turns to face her, mouth agape and eyes wide open, "what…"

"Our wedding and reception will be at the White House. Before we leave here, you're going to have to sign a few things to grant us permission to run a background check. We'll need signatures from everyone who plans to be in the kitchen with you as you cook and everyone who will be with you when you deliver the cake."

Damien nods eagerly. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity and he was not going to screw it up.

Erin knows that if their background checks didn't pan out then she'll have to agree to the white house cooks to prepare the cake but dessert wasn't truly their expertise and after a long conversation with her mother the other night, she convinced her to let her take charge on finding a bakery and ordering the cake. It was the least Erin could do.

"What price range were you two thinking?"

Erin looks at Jay and he shrugs before offering an answer, "It doesn't matter. We'll just get what she likes," she elbows him in the side, "I mean what we both like…price isn't a factor."

"Cool," he writes down that piece of information before waving for them to take a seat, "now I'm going to ask a few questions to get an idea on what you want your cake to resemble."

That took up the most time because Jay and Erin were not prepared for it. The two of them disagreed on a few details but for the most part, they were in agreement. Damien rises to his feet, "Now that all the logistics are out of the way," he closes his notepad and shoves it into his back pocket, "it's time to do the best part," he sits the pen behind his ear, "Mary!"

A woman dressed in a chef's hat and coat wheels out a cart filled with saucers that have small slices of cake on them. She parked the cart adjacent to the couple and locked the wheels, "Based on the questions we asked when you made your reservation, we selected these flavors of cake."

"Fortunately," Damien grabs the first saucer and sets it down in between the couple, "you won't have to make any final decisions today. All we're going to do during the consultation today is discuss your wedding so I can visualize how your cake will look, I'll sketch a few ideas down and show the two of you and in a few weeks, I'll see if you made any progress on deciding which flavor of cake would best suit your taste buds."

Erin is listening, truly she is, but she can't help but to be somewhat distracted by the slice of heavenly goodness laid out in front of her. She's rubbing her hands together just as Mary lays out two forks for her and Jay, "now this slice is strawberry flavored topped with raspberry mousse and vanilla buttercream," Mary informs just as Damien grabs for the second plate off the cart.

As the forkful goes into her mouth, she moans in satisfaction. This slice was everything and it was only the first. She closes her eyes and enjoys the feeling of her taste buds having a party. She only opens them when Mary sits a glass of water down in front of the two of them. She takes a swig of it to clear her palate, "What do you think baby?"

"It's pretty good," he nods as he reaches for the napkin to wipe the corners of his mouth.

"This next one," Damien begins as Mary slides the used plate away, "it's hazelnut-almond and it's filled with dark chocolate and mocha buttercream. It's one of our most popular cakes." Erin didn't need to be told twice to dig in, once she dipped her fork into the other glass of water to clean it of the crumbs from the first cake, she took a bite out of the second one.

"It's really good but we won't be choosing this one," Erin says, sliding the plate completely in front of her, "babe here doesn't like dark chocolate."

Damien reaches into his pocket to withdraw his notepad, "Good to know," he clicks his pen to add down that detail, "Are there any other flavors the two of you don't like?"

"If there is, I haven't come across it yet." The table fills with laughter at Erin's words just as Mary switches out the plates, taking away the empty plate to sit down the next flavor.

"Oh, Camille doesn't want red velvet," Jay remembers. It's a compromise Erin made with her mother. No red velvet cake meant no Camille tagging along to taste wedding cakes with them. Damien wrote it down before choosing to sit his notepad on the table rather than placing it back in his pocket, "Alright now, this next one is a ginger flavored spice cake with real maple frosting and vanilla bean icing. It's one of our new flavors."

And it was pretty good. Damien had a knack for baking and each cake was proof of that. From the chocolate cake topped with coffee buttercream to the chocolate and vanilla swirl with mocha mousse, it all was just so yummy that she knew it was going to be hard to choose between them all when it's time. She's going to have an extremely difficult time picking. Between the lemon and strawberry, the orange and lemon, the strawberry shortcake, the pineapple and the pumpkin cake, there were too many options and she was going to need as much time as they'll give her to make the decision. With a full belly, Erin sits her fork down on the empty plate and turns her head to face her fiancée, "Do you think you can carry me to the car?"

He thinks she's joking; she's dead serious.

"I'm just as full," he groans because he desperately wants to unbutton his pants.

"Fine," Erin sighs, rolling her eyes as she turned to face her guards, "Will one of you carry me?"

Never being the one to ever refuse her, Atwater steps forward and stoops down low enough to allow Erin to climb onto his back. She chuckles as her arms wrap around his broad shoulders and when he stands back up, Roman and Dawson come behind her, hands going to her back to steady her and ensure she didn't fall off. Once she got her bearings in order, Jay swapped telephone numbers with Damien and handed over his credit card to put on record, "I need a nap," he grumbled as he waited for the baker to charge his account, "all the sweets we just ate, I'm ready to sleep it off for the next few hours."

"…you and me both."

Erin held on even tighter as Atwater adjusted her, "You can just give me a lift to the door."

"Are you sure?"

She nods, "Yeah, the last thing I need is for this to be the next front page photo on tomorrow's magazine cover. The front door is fine." Once Jay received his credit card back, the couple scheduled their follow-up appointment in which they would go over their chosen flavor and design.

"Thank you both again," Damien says as he walks them all to the front door.

"It's no problem, really," Erin reassured, climbing off Atwater's back, "and we look forward to meeting your mother at our next consultation." She extends her hand and Damien shakes it. He turns to Jay next and shakes his hand, "Congratulations to the both of you. I look forward to working with you all in creating your perfect cake." Damien pushes open the front door and holds it open as they all leave; covering their faces as paparazzi capture photos and ask questions about their impending nuptials.


	52. Save the Date

"Now is the perfect opportunity."

Jay glanced at Erin, turning his head away from his brother and his bandmates as they entered past the threshold of the front door. He squints, it's borderline a glare, "you have still yet to apologize to your mother. Pot, kettle, you know the rest."

She rolls her eyes, "That's different. I'll apologize to my mother when we actually have a moment to talk. Now is your moment, take advantage of it."

She makes her way down the hallway, hugging and patting the shoulders of his longtime friends as she welcomes them into her home. Each of them has every intention to occupy the rooms that they've previously occupied because without Will playing the role of manager, it seems booking hotel rooms have slipped from their minds. Erin didn't mind. She welcomed them into her home with open arms, "Help yourselves to whatever is in the kitchen. There's not much in there to be honest but once Kelly gets here, he and I will be going to the grocery store."

"…be on your best behavior Rixton," Natalie remarked, dropping her duffel bag onto the coffee table, "last time you and Kelly were in the same room it was Thanksgiving and there was a scene and I'm pretty sure I speak for all of us when I say, be nice."

"He started it," Rixton protested.

Erin shook her head in disagreement, "No, he was defending me because you were being an asshole. It's before you experienced growth," she pats his shoulder.

"Nah, your best friend was inserting himself in a conversation that had nothing to do with him."

"If it involves Erin, it involves me," a familiar voice spoke up and at the sight of his arrival, Erin rushes down the hall to wrap her arms around his shoulders, "Hey Er." He hugged her back.

With his arm around her shoulders, the two of them make their way down the hall and into the living room with him waving and voicing an occasional greeting to everyone he walked by, "So, it sounded like I walked in on an interesting conversation…"

"It wasn't important," Erin waved it off, "we were just telling Rixton to behave."

"I swear they think I'm five or something…"

Kim scoffs, "I swear sometimes you act like you're five or something." Kenny bumped shoulders with her before releasing the handle of his suitcase.

"Yeah, we don't want any problems," Natalie added, looking between Rixton and Severide with a hard glare that had Rixton suddenly nodding quickly in agreement.

"It should be no problems," Kelly agreed before averting his eyes towards Kenny, "as long as he's cool, I'll be cool."

"We're cool," Rixton extends his hand. And after a moment of silence, Severide shakes it.

Sighs of relief are heard through the living room and if Severide felt any type of hesitance towards being cordial with Rixton then it all disappeared when he saw the smile on Erin's face. If she was cool with him then he'll be cool with him, -it's the best friend code. His arm falls from around her shoulders and his hand is rubbing against her back, "Are you ready?"

"Where are your things?" Erin replied, noticing that he arrived with no luggage, "I swear Kelly if you booked a hotel…"

"I didn't," he chuckled. And the amount of loyalty he has for her has always been returned. She would always make sure her best friend was set and he did the same. Always.

"…then where's your luggage?"

"I can't get anything past you. It's in the truck. I didn't bring it in yet. I figured I'll bring it in when we get back from the store but we should really go before it's rush hour."

"Let me grab my purse," she says, moving out of his embrace to head towards her bedroom.

Severide stands in the center of the living room, hands tucked in his pockets as he watches everyone interact with one another.

"Uh Kelly," he hears someone call his name and turns around to face Halstead, "Thanks again for coming," Jay gave Kelly a pat on the back before reaching past him to grab Natalie and Kim's luggage, "I'll move these out of the way."

"No problem Jay, anything to support you guys." It was the truth. Jay was important to Erin which made him important to Kelly. Severide had a lot of vacation days saved up so it didn't hurt to divide those between now and when it's time for her to get married. He had come for the holiday performance tomorrow and the added benefit of it was he got to see his best friend.

Erin appeared moments afterwards and the two of them disappeared seconds later. Jay was left with his band and his brother and it's obvious how frequently he spoke to Kim, Natalie and his band and it's even more obvious how infrequently he spoke to his brother. He could hear Erin's voice, telling him, pushing and ordering him to put his pride aside and apologize.

"…Jay," he hears his brother call out his name and Jay realizes that he must have been in a daze because no one is in the living room but him and Will, "uh, can I talk to you?"

"Yeah, I actually wanted to talk to you too."

It's no time like the present. There's awkward silence which is weird because that's never existed between the two of them. It lasts for entirely too long before echoes of "sorry" fill the living room and both of them smile softly when they realize that they apologized at the same time.

"Can I go first?" Will asks and he's being overly nice and respectful because he senses that he's on a thin line right now and he doesn't want to overstep or offend.

"…yeah, sure."

"I shouldn't have overstepped," Will said, and he's bashful and struggles to meet his brother's eyes and that alone would make Jay forgive him, "I didn't mean any harm. Honestly. I was just looking out for you, I'll always look out for you, always and I'm sorry for what I did but I'm not sorry for why I did it." Will finally meets his eyes. He's truly remorseful.

"I'm happy to see you," and while Jay originally felt kind of shocked to see his brother enter his home, he realized that the shock and disbelief morphed into content; he's glad his brother still came out to support him regardless of if they're fighting or not, "and I'm sorry too. I make a stupid decision because of a temporary feeling and I'm sorry for that, I shouldn't have fired you and it was a stupid mistake. No one else has my best interest in mind, not like you do."

"Erin would be mad if she heard you say that," Will joked to lighten the mood.

"I meant in terms of managing me," he was quick to clarify, "and uh, where was I? Oh, I've been stressing about this album release and I realize that no one can do your job but you. I just think we should keep personal and professional life separate and if we have a personal argument then it shouldn't affect our professional relationship."

"That's a pretty mature thing of you to say, Jay."

He smirked, "Yeah, well, I've learned from the best."

"I know you fired me-"

"I'm sorry about that. It was a dumb decision."

"…but uh," Will continues, speaking over his brother's apology, "I never stopped working for you. I knew it was a temporary decision and you were eventually going to ask me to come back so I continued to work so I didn't fall too far behind," Jay actually looks shocked at hearing that, "and with that said, the album is ready to be released once you say the word."

Jay hugs him, hard, and it's surprising for everyone who reentered the room because they've never seen the two brothers hug before, not that they can remember, but it's honestly nice to see. Will returns the hug and whispers another apology into his ear "Does this mean I'm back on the payroll?" Jay laughs.

"Yeah, you're hired again," the band starts to clap from behind them and it's obvious they've been eavesdropping, "and if you can have the album released after the concert tomorrow then I'll throw in a monetary bonus."

"Great, great, I can definitely make that happen," Will moves out of his brother's arms to go retrieve his laptop bag, "everybody take a seat, we're going to go over last minute details to ensure that everything is ready for it to be released."

"I thought all you needed was for me to say the word for it to be released?"

Will shook his head and sat down on the couch, pulling the laptop onto his lap, "Yeah, I embellished that a bit but I just need to work out the finer details. Most of it is ready and done though, I just want to go over the track list, the order of each track, and I want to show you all the album artwork and I know you've all seen it on paper but I want to show you how it'll look in the digital form and with color," Will starts logging onto his computer, "and there's a few other things I want to go over, some logistics just to make sure everything is set and to drop it after your performance is a risky move because you'll be dropping it without much promotion."

And while Jay was forced to sit through an unscheduled, unofficial meeting, Erin and Severide were at the grocery store grabbing food off the shelves in order to stock up the refrigerator and the cabinets in Erin's condo. Severide is pushing the cart and it's almost filled up to the top but it doesn't deter Erin from adding more items, "Are you seriously opening a bag of chips?"

"I haven't had lunch yet," Erin replies, as if that's an excuse, digging her hand inside to grab a few of the salty chips, "and I'm going to pay for them," she extends the bag towards him, "Want some?" He does and he doesn't hesitate to take a handful. She chews and swallows and once the snack goes down her throat, she talks, "So, what's been going on Severide?"

"…nothing much," he tosses something into the cart and she's so thankful that Jay put a grocery list in her purse for them to go off of because if she was left to her own devices then the cart would probably be full of sweets and snacks, "work has been cool."

"And the bitch?" He knows exactly who she is referring to.

"She's gone, transferred out to another department," he answers simply and she senses that he doesn't want to talk about it too much and she's willing to move on, "I didn't ask too many questions because she put in the transfer a day before I was going to fire her and I was just happy to see her leave, I didn't care when or where to, I'm just happy she's gone."

Erin folded the bag of chips and set them in front of the cart, "I'm happy she's gone too. She was causing you too much unnecessary stress," she reached for his arm and held him in place, "and how are things with you and Stella?" He smiled and the smile that formed on her lips threatened to overpower his, "is that a blush Kelly Severide?"

"Stella and I are good and we're official and I'm not about to gossip about this with you like we're teenagers." He continued pushing the cart, moving it to the front of the store and getting in line behind a woman with two kids throwing very loud temper tantrums.

Starting to load their groceries on the belt and placing the divider down to separate their groceries from the woman's in front of them, Erin puts the opened chips down first. She didn't want to forget to pay for them. Together, as the cashier rings up the woman's items, her and Severide put down each and every thing that was placed in the cart and now all that was left was to wait, "I'm so happy for you and Stella." The people behind her in line appear to be shocked to even be in line with the first daughter; the cashier and the woman in front of her haven't even noticed her presence yet.

"Please don't make this a big deal," he whispered. He wouldn't meet her eyes. She couldn't stop smiling, "This was a long time coming, Kelly. The two of you deserve this, deserve to be happy I mean and maybe, possibly in love."

"Whoa, whoa, slow down Er, this is still new."

Erin rolls her eyes, and the toddler is still crying in the background, "You and Jay are more alike than you think. You both have commitment issues. Hopefully she's the right woman who'll bring you out of that."

"…like you did for Jay?"

"Exactly," she answers, waving at a few people who waved at her.

The woman in front of her in line was distracted; she kept trying to console her toddler as her other kid, who looked to be four or five years older, continuously asked his mother for one of the candy bars lined up in the line, "No," she says but the kid keeps asking; it's like it goes in one ear and out of the other.

"Food has gotten so expensive," the mother flushes after hearing the total; she hands over her debit card as she gives her oldest kid a stern look, one demanding that he doesn't ask her again.

The cashier extends the debit card back to her, "Ma'am, your card was declined."

"Huh," the woman appears to be surprised and embarrassed, "can you try again? I swear the money is on there." The cashier tries again. It gets declined. The mother picks up her crying toddler as her other young child whines that he's hungry.

"I'm sorry ma'am. Is there another card I can try?"

The woman takes her card back and pockets it, "No, um, that's…that's alright. Can you just cancel the exchange?" It was humiliating. And she refused to look back in line because she didn't want to see the faces of the other customers judging her.

"Okay, I'll get my manager. I don't know how to override an exchange."

Before the cashier steps away from the cash register, Erin is digging in her wallet and pushing past Severide, "What are you doing?" He whispered and her guards were in the front of the line, watching, always watching.

"Excuse me," she gets the cashier's attention, "try this," she hands over her card and before the woman in line can say anything, Erin is turning to the little kid, "and which candy bar do you want little guy?" The boy grins, grabbing the bright, orange Reese's package before handing it to her, "Good choice."

"You…you don't have to do that," the woman stuttered and she's even more embarrassed, "I'll uh, I'll figure it out. I just need to go to an ATM or something because I could have sworn the money was there or," she pulls out her phone to check her account and when the hopeful look on her face drops that tells Erin everything she needs to know, -there wasn't enough.

"Ma'am, I truly don't mind. Let me do this for you," Erin didn't want to overstep and if the woman said no then she would take back her card and hold it until it's time for the cashier to ring up her own food.

"I honestly thought I had enough," the woman felt the need to explain but it wasn't needed; Erin didn't need her to explain because she's willing to do this regardless, "my bills must have come out when I got here and they were more than I estimated and if it's too much, I can put a few things back and you really don't need to get him a candy bar. He'll be fine without it."

Erin reaches for her hand, "I really don't mind, honestly." She squeezes it in reassurance.

"Thank you," the woman breathes out, it's a ghost of a whisper, "thank you so much."

The cashier swipes Erin's card and Severide moves forward, throwing his arm around his best friend's shoulder and laying his lips against her temple, "You have the kindest heart."

"I didn't do this for the compliment," she whispered back just as the cashier hands the little boy his candy bar and the woman her receipt.

The mother turned to face her son, "What do you say?"

"Thank you," he whispered, shyly.

And Erin stooped low to be at his line of vision, "You're welcome."

I won't forget this Ms. Voight," the woman proclaims, assisting the bagger in placing the bags in her cart, "I will never forget this. Thank you."

"It's no problem; really, I'm glad I could help you out and please, call me Erin."

The woman hugged her, tightly, and the little boy followed his mother's actions and joined in. This was payment enough. And she didn't need credit or celebrations because just the smile on the woman's face and the faces of her children profited Erin's heart way more than money can.

-x-

As the black truck pulled to a stop, Erin and Jay were given strict instructions not to step out of the vehicle just yet. Atwater got out first; his black shades covering his eyes as he briefly scoped out his surroundings. People were watching, they expected that, he just needed to make sure no one was approaching. Roman got out next and he traded places with Atwater, glancing around the perimeter as Atwater gave Erin and Jay the approval to step out.

"…the four of you are really doing too much," Erin groaned, hearing the chuckles of Dawson and Sorensen as she took Atwater's hand to use it to help herself step out.

"It's part of the job," was Roman's simple response. He's always so by the book.

Jay gets out next and when his feet land on the D.C. streets, he looks up and down the National Mall and sees couples, friends and families carrying coolers and holding folded blankets and lawn chairs as they walk onto the grass and search for a spot to set up their belongings.

It's going to be a long day. With eight musicians scheduled for tonight performing a varying amount of music and then an extravagant fireworks show that usually last for about a half an hour. It's something Jay will have to get used to, coming to official events with his fiancée and her family because if her father wins then it'll be another four years of this, among other events that he'll have to attend because he's the first daughter's husband and the son-in-law of the sitting president. Jay takes her hand once the two of them step onto the sidewalk, "My band is meeting us here," he tells her, watching as Severide was the last to get out of the truck.

"Do they know what time to get here?"

"Yeah, I've told them like ten times. My brother's working out the finishing details so our album can be released tonight. The band is just assisting and making final judgments on it."

She turned to face him, smiling and reaching up to push his sunglasses to the top of his head, "I like looking into your eyes and I'm very proud of you. This is exciting."

"I have to admit, I'm a bit nervous."

"You shouldn't be," she leaned forward to kiss him, "it's going to be amazing. I can't wait to buy my own copy." She truly doesn't need to do that but she wants to out of support.

Kelly clapped his hands, "Alright lovebirds," he interrupted, throwing both of his arms around their shoulders, "the savages have pulled out their cameras so unless you guys want to be on the spread of tomorrow's magazine mid-liplock, I suggest we go find your parents."

He was right because her mother's event should be on every cover of news not her kissing her fiancé but knowing how some newsstands work, they'll overlook her mother's tradition in order to smear her for her simple public display of affection.

As the three of them walked through the lawn, her guards had her closely surrounded. It prevented anyone from approaching her, but because her fiancé wasn't technically family yet, at least not by law, they didn't offer him the same protection yet and fans had no problem approaching him. He didn't seem to mind though. He periodically stopped, which meant she stopped, which meant that her guards stopped, "Jay," she groans after he stops for the third time.

"Thank you for your support," he tells his fan as he signs her small, American flag, "Have a safe fourth of July. I hope you enjoy the show."

Erin truly thought it was sweet. How much he loved his fans was one of the things she loves about him but there's truly a time and place for everything and the concert is starting because the first entertainer has taken the stage and her mother keeps sending her text messages questioning her status. And her mom's a bit paranoid; it was only last year that Jay said he would do the show before backing out at the last minute.

When they resume walking, Erin moves out of the protection of her guards in order to take Jay's hand, intertwining her fingers with his and leaning against his arm, "People are taking pictures," he whispered in her ear but she didn't care. It's no secret that they're together. It's no secret that they're engaged. She's not a child. She's a grown woman and she didn't care what people thought and saw, at least she didn't care in this moment, "I'm just loving up on my fiancé, is there something wrong with that?"

"You won't hear me complaining," he chuckled.

So many people shouted out greetings and waved and as they moved through the lawn of the National Mall, Erin would wave back. It was overwhelming and surprisingly it was something she hasn't gotten used to yet. The two of them, walking a few steps ahead of her guards, had come to an unexpected stop again when more people approached, all with questions and praises for Jay. She rolled her eyes, disconnected her arm from his and kept walking, "Just meet me at the front," she retorted and waved for Kelly, who had been distracted with texting Stella on his phone, that he didn't fully understand the aggression behind her wave for him to follow her.

He has one of their small flags in his hand because the teenage guy is waiting on his signature but he's distracted though, "Erin," he calls out and she continues to walk away, "Erin," he quickly signs the flag, hands it back and excuses himself through the small crowd that formed in order to catch up to his girl, -who had made quite the distance.

He squeezes through her guards and he manages to catch up, grabbing her wrist to stop her from walking, "I was calling you," he says because he actually thinks she didn't hear him; she heard.

"I know," she replies and it's a bit awkward because they're outside, in public, and it's a pretty decent amount of people that have already shown up.

Severide clears his throat, "I just got a text from Justin; he spotted a few food trucks. I'm going to go grab a bite to eat," he slowly backs away.

"Bring me back something," Erin says and Kelly nods before turning on his heel and walking away, leaving the two of them facing each other, "I heard you call me and I would have responded but you were a bit preoccupied."

"…Erin," he didn't want to play games, "Why are you acting like this? It's a part of my job. You know when we go out this happens all the time."

"Exactly, it happens all the time…"

"Sometimes I don't sign autographs and sometimes I do." The second performers were introduced and the group of female pop singers walked onto the stage. They began to sing.

"Typically you don't normally sign autographs when we're together," she reminded, "and if you do, it's always an exception because it's like one or two. We've been here for so long yet we haven't even made it to the reserved area because we keep stopping. If you want to sign autographs, go ahead, be my guest, but I don't want to just stand there, twiddling my thumbs."

He squints at her, staring pretty hard, "My album is going to be released tonight without much promotion. It wouldn't hurt to remind fans to keep checking for my music."

"I know, and you can keep doing that, I don't mind, I really don't, just meet me in the reserved area when you're done. It's no sweat Jay; it's really not."

Jay doesn't know how to take that. Erin's been pretty easy to read, but she's still a complicated woman and he finds himself needing translation sometimes. He looks to Atwater, hoping that a fellow guy who understands his confusion would help but her guard isn't offering any type of hint. Jay scratches the back of his head and sighs, "Erin, I thought you were used to this. Between dating me and being the daughter of the president, you're used to the spotlight."

"I don't think I'll ever get used to it," she admits honestly and she notices that Severide is heading back over, hands filled with an assortment of snacks, "I tolerate it for my dad and for you but I'll never be used to it. We hardly have any privacy. I can't kiss you without someone taking a picture. We can't go on a date without someone sneaking photos and shouting out one of our names, telling you they love your music or telling me how they either love or hate my dad. I accept it because I love him and I love you and I know it comes with the territory of the job that you love and I would never in a million years try to make either of you give it up. And I can normally handle it, but sometimes I have my moments where I don't want to share. Yeah, I know, it's pretty selfish but it's the truth. I'm just being honest."

"I don't think it's selfish."

Severide makes a turn towards the roped off portion of the reserved area. He saw they were still talking and he didn't want to interrupt. He always knew and Erin appreciated that. She felt Jay take her hands and in her peripheral she saw people taking pictures, "Don't pay attention to them, pay attention to me," he says, tugging her closer and his lips brush against her nose, "I'm sorry, and you're right. I think we can compromise."

"I don't want to compromise. You have to do what you have to do. I can accept that, as long as you accept that I might have to walk away a few times."

"That sounds like a compromise to me," he dry chuckles.

"I'm serious Jay."

"I know," he nods and the smile on his face disappears, "but I have a different idea; instead of walking away, how about when people approach me for pictures and autographs and I start to sign them, you give me a little tap or a look and I'll wrap it up."

Erin rolls her eyes, "You're just going to forget. I'll make a face and you'll be like what's wrong with your face? I'll wink my eye and you'll ask if I have something in my eye? I know you Jay, you're going to forget." And he knows she's right. She's always right.

"…then just drag me away."

Erin smirks at that, "So your entire fan base can attack me online? I don't think so."

"Fine, then just give me a secret nudge; that should work."

Erin doesn't think it will but she's ready to drop the conversation. It's already moving to the third performer and Jay and his band are the last performers of the night. She grabs his hand and they continue walking until they're granted access into the reserved area.

"If you didn't come in the next five minutes, Severide was going to eat your hotdog." Justin says.

She snatches it away from her best friend, "Thank you," she bites into it with a little more aggression than absolutely necessary; she was proving her point.

The National Mall still wasn't too crowded, at least not yet, and with the added security blocking off streets and putting up cement barriers for added protection, it was with no additional stress that Jay and Erin had easily found the perfect spot. Maybe not technically, she's the first daughter so her spot is always with her family and it's always in the front and heavily guarded by secret service. It provided the perfect vantage point to see the stage and the many performances of the night. The concert started early; the first act began while the sun was still out, but the more popular line up played as the time grew later and the sky grew darker. And now that the fourth performer was on the stage, the audience had tripled in size and they were definitely violating some type of fire code. This was definitely the largest crowd they've ever had in all the years her mother has been putting together this event.

Eventually, like every year they've done this, the National Mall fills with so many people that more law enforcement had to come out in order to manage the scene. Since the crowd tripled in size, officers who had the day off were recruited for overtime. It's a spectacle. It's tradition; it's one that Camille truly hopes will exist longer after she's the first lady. It's an event that drives her nerves out of the park but she's willing to go through the anxiety if it means Americans can enjoy a few hours of live entertainment and fireworks in celebration of their nation's independence. Every year it's the same –the only difference is the performers- and like every year Camille unsuccessfully hides her erratic emotions, "Camille, relax, please," her dad pleaded but he knew his wife, he knew it was impossible for her to stay still because every year, she's always moving, always all over the place and never remaining in the same position for too long.

Erin is sitting in a lawn chair. She's wearing jean shorts that are a little indecent because they barely cover her thighs but she's young and she's living her life. Her shirt has a picture of the United States on the front colored in red, white and blue and on the back is the words 'Vote Voight/Olinsky' because if there's an opportunity to remind people to vote and to persuade them to vote for her dad then she'll take it. Her flip-flops are red and her toes are painted white. In her left hand, she holds a small American flag that she waves around every time the audience cheers at the end of an entertainment act. She's so drawn into the fifth performer that she's paying no attention to her mother's breakdown only a few feet away.

"Is she like this all the time?" Jay is sitting in the lawn chair next to her and while he and his band –that arrived during the fourth performer- watch her mother stress out over every little thing, she and Justin seem unaffected.

Erin nods, "…yes," she felt Jay's hand fall to her thigh, "it's hard for her to relax. She's a perfectionist and every year she's afraid that something will go wrong. She'll be fine though."

Jay rises to his feet because the one thing about being in the front and being surrounded by so many guards is they make it difficult to see the stage when you're sitting down. Voight managed to send a few of them away; he moved enough of them out of their personal space so that he could see the large crowd that covers the expanse of the National Mall. A few constituents wave to him when they catch his attention and Voight smiles and waves back.

Erin stands up next, abandoning her chair because with Jay standing it made it even more difficult for her to see anything or anyone on stage. Her family is decked out in patriotic colors. Her mother wears a red, white and blue sundress; her dad has on khaki pants with a black shirt that says '1776' written in white on the front and 'happy independence day' on the back and Jay stands in cargo shorts and a white tank top that simply says 'Merica.'

"How many more acts until Jay's performance, mom?"

"Uh…four, I believe," her voice is hesitant as if she's unsure of her answer; she pulls out her phone and looks down at the schedule, "it's three, well, technically two because Jay's band is the third and last performance of the night. How many songs is your band doing again?"

When Camille looked up at him through her reading glasses, his heart immediately went out to the woman. She was unnecessarily stressed. He reached out to pat her shoulder when he realized that she was waiting for him to answer her question, "four."

His hand provides comfort and Erin smiles; appreciating the extra step he put forward to ease her mother's worries. The crowd cheers as the next act walks onto stage and what comfort Jay's hand provided suddenly disappears when she shouts for her assistant to lead the band to the stage and give them the rundown of how things will go. Now that the sixth act was on the stage, there was one more performer before District 21 blows the crowd away. And once their last song ends, fireworks will immediately start. Erin was close to stepping in to at least provide her mother with some type of help but she knows Camille Voight, she's known her for literally her entire life and if there was one thing she knew, it's that her mother always has things handled. Erin didn't want to step on any toes. She turned away and walked across the short distance of the reserved area to approach Severide as he munched on cotton candy, "Hey!" he complained, swatting her hand away when she reached for a piece of the sugary, pink confection, "if you wanted some, there's a stand right over there," he points over his shoulder.

She's unbothered. She rolls her eyes; he chuckles and then extends the cone holding up his cotton candy, offering her a bite. It was one she gladly accepted.

Erin sat down on the arm of his lawn chair. It wobbled. He reached out to grab her arm to ensure she didn't fall, "I should get up."

"…you're fine."

"I don't think your chair can hold up both of our weight."

He laughs, "You're like 120 soaking wet."

She scoffs, "I don't appreciate you trying to guess my weight." She rolls her eyes. The seventh performer –a popular band with a song currently trending on the charts- takes the stage right before her favorite band does and she's not really paying attention to them –no disrespect really- but Severide is quite distracting and she's trying to focus on not falling off the arm of his chair.

Severide stuffs the remainder of the cotton candy in his mouth, using it as an excuse as to why he couldn't respond to her last remark. Erin laughs, reaching into his pocket to swipe the chocolate bar, Snickers, from his pocket, "Hey! You're a lawyer; you should know that stealing is wrong."

"Lawyer or not, everyone should know that stealing is wrong," she says as she rips open the candy bar, "and besides, I'm stress eating right now. Jay's about to go on," she nods towards the stage as the seventh performer wraps up their third song of the night. Erin takes another bite of the snickers bar and whispers through a full mouth of chocolate, caramel and nuts, "November 6th; make sure you save the date. Tell Stella to save the date too."

"I know Er, we've already rsvp'd with your mom."

Erin nods. She didn't know. Her mother doesn't keep her involved in the behind the scenes of what's going on. She truly won't know all who have rsvp'd and saved the date until the day of her wedding when she scans the audience of all in attendance. She's so distracted. She's so lost in her thoughts that she doesn't realize her fiancé's band has taken the stage until his voice fills her ears, suddenly captivating every one of her senses. "Your guy definitely has stage presence."

"…yeah he does," she stands and starts to rock side to side. The crowd behind her is singing along, recording the band performing –and sometimes her swaying to the beat.

"I haven't been to a concert in a while," Severide stands up, swiping the Twix bar from his other pocket, "…maybe next time District 21 performs, I could bring Stella."

"I'm pretty sure she'll love that. And if you treat me nicely and break me off a piece of that Twix bar, I can even get the two of you backstage to meet the band," she asserts; he laughs at that. And he does in fact break her off a piece of the candy bar; he can never deny her. She knows that.

The crowd enjoys the music. It's practically a free concert. Little kids are running around, adults are swaying and dancing to the beat and when she looks over at her parents, she sees both of them bobbing their heads to the beat of the drums. She records them and she doesn't hesitate to post it to her social media. Severide smirks when he gets the notification, "Your dad is going to kill you for posting that," he double-taps and likes the video.

"…he's not on social media," was her response followed by a shoulder shrug, "what he doesn't know won't hurt him."

"Yeah, but Trudy might hurt you." Erin has dealt with her father's campaign manager before, it wasn't the first and it won't be the last. She's not worried. And besides, it's a harmless video that'll surely win the hearts of many of his young supporters. If anything, Trudy should thank her. Erin pockets her phone and moves over towards her dad, taking his hand within her own and tugging him towards a space that wasn't as occupied as the other.

The smile on her face is contagious and her dad's lips threaten to break out into one, "What are you doing, Erin?" He follows her. She grabs his other hand.

"I'm dancing," she simply answers, "and if you start dancing too then we'll be dancing together. Come on dad," she holds her hands up, positioning her arms; he appears to be hesitant, "just think of it as practice for the wedding, our father-daughter dance." And that's all that he needed to hear, kind of reminiscent of when she was a little girl and the family went to the wedding of a former senator and she stood on her dad's feet as they held hands and slow danced, but now, twenty years later, she's almost at her dad's height and his right hand is on her left hip as his left hand holds her right one, "This song is kind of hard to slow dance to Erin," he admits, but they make it work, "I'm hoping that when we slow dance on your actual wedding day the song will be a bit slower." She smiles. She laughs. And the two of them continue to dance, purposely dancing by her guards because their broad shoulders and tall height provide the perfect coverage.

The public couldn't see them. Voight spins his daughter around. She laughs and stumbles into her dad's chest before stepping on his foot, "sorry, sorry!"

",,,yeah, maybe we should practice more often," he remarked jokingly, "anymore steps on my toes then the guards are probably going to tackle you. Ya know, for posing a danger to me?" It's rare for her father to joke around but she'll take it, "Yeah, maybe that's enough practicing for today," he says after she accidentally steps on his toes again.

"I'm a solo dancer, I'm not that much of a partner dancer."

"You might want to change that," her dad responds before placing a kiss against her cheek, "you know considering that in a few months you'll have to dance with your husband." And she liked the sound of that. Her dad leaves her side and moves towards the stage.

Everyone continues to enjoy the music. Her man owns the stage. Severide is right; Jay has absolute stage presence. She fans herself. The humidity has her sweating. And Jay keeps looking at her, and that's really not fair, it's not, because how was she supposed to keep it together when her guy is up there, singing, playing the electric guitar and occasionally winking at her every time she meets his eye. Erin moves towards the stage, stretching her arm out and when his hand brushes against her fingers, Severide captures the picture, posting it to his own social media and tagging the both of them in it. Erin mouths, I love you, and she knows he would have mouthed it back if he wasn't singing. He continues to work the stage, and Erin finds herself relieved that this is a family event which means no one will be throwing their undergarments at the band.

She can finally enjoy the show without the visuals of lingerie being thrown at her fiancé's feet.

Camille approaches the stage, moving to stand next to her daughter, "He's an amazing performer," she throws her arm around her daughter's shoulders.

"He is," Erin agrees, and it's one of the many reasons she's fallen in love with him, "He has the entire audience mesmerized," a moment passes between the two of them as they watch the band transition into their last song of the night, "Ma, I'm uh, I'm sorry about the other day."

She turns her head to face her daughter, smiling just as the bright, neon lights start flashing, "I accept your apology baby girl, but you, you have nothing to apologize for." Camille tightens her hold around her daughter, pulling her in to brush a kiss against her forehead, "it's just stress from all the wedding planning. It was honestly bound to happen."

"Don't make excuses for me."

Her mother rolls her eyes. The two of them look back at the performance. Camille continues to sway, closing her eyes and ignoring the pinging of her cell phone in her pocket, "Ma, you should get that. It's probably important." Yeah, the first lady's cell phone ringing is always important.

Her mother never stops swaying. She multitasks as she pulls her phone out to glance at the message, "The limousine has been confirmed for your wedding day." Erin nods. There was no time like the present to get wedding planning updates. "And I know we kind of just made up even though I didn't think we were fighting in the first place, but I worked out travel accommodations for your guests. I know that was supposed to be Jay's job but I want to take as many things off your plate as possible and when I spoke to him about it, he didn't seem to mind."

"…of course he didn't," Erin remarks, "but he's booking our reception entertainment!"

"There's really not much left to do then. Everything is booked, shipped and confirmed for your wedding date and all that's left is the marriage license but that's not to be done until later."

It's hard to believe that her wedding was planned. The venue was booked. Her man of honor was named. She didn't have any bridesmaids and that was on purpose, but since she already bought the dresses, she really does need to consider filling those positions. Jay still needed a best man; he was stuck between choosing between his brother and one of the members of his band. Every day he comes closer to making that decision but if he waits too long, Erin fears that her mother will make it for him. Severide approaches her, standing to her left while her mother remains on the right, "Gummy bear," he holds the bag out in front of her and her mother.

"Seriously," Erin grumbles, grabbing a few out of the bag, "how much candy did you buy?"

"…that's for me to know and you not to find out."

Camille laughed as she helped herself to a few gummy bears. She popped as many of them in her mouth in order to use her hands to clap in celebration of the end of the band's performance and the start of the fireworks show, "Happy Fourth of July, America, I hope you all enjoyed the show," Jay announces into the microphone, "and our new studio album has just dropped. Check it out!" There was no moment of calm. Cheers and applause were still ringing out even as flashes of red, white and blue decorated the dark sky.

"What did you think?" Jay asked, arms wrapping around Erin's body from behind. He buries his face in the crook of her neck and leaves a soft kiss there. He caught her off guard. Her body tensed up before relaxing when she realized it was him.

"I think we're going to stream the new album on our way home tonight and as for your performance, I think it was amazing," she whispered; her attention was drawn to the fireworks in the sky. Not once did she pull her gaze away from them, "your performances are always amazing though. Was performing here as great as you imagined?"

"…even more so," he answered honestly.

That, specifically, made her turn around to brush her lips against his. Bright flashes from cameras sparked and the people in the front row were either taking pictures of her making out with her fiancé or of the fireworks in the sky. She didn't know. She wouldn't know until tonight or tomorrow because if they were of her and Jay then that meant they'll be discussed on entertainment news. It didn't deter her away from kissing him though.

"I think," she says against his lips, "I think," she keeps trying to talk but he keeps kissing her and it makes it very difficult for her to formulate any thought and translate that into actual English, "I think my mom," she pulls her mouth away, "my mom will probably try to convince you and your band to perform again next year. She thought you were amazing too."

"Is this going to become tradition?"

Erin shrugs, tugging onto the front of his shirt to bring him back in for more kisses, "I love you," she starts kissing him again and the fireworks lighting up the sky continue and the patterns and assortment of colors and shapes are amazing enough to distract everyone from the very public display of affection coming from them.

"We're missing the fireworks show."

"I don't care," she says, a tad bit out of breath but what do you expect when you can't stop making out with your significant other, "I see them every year. I'll watch next year." He goes back in for more kisses because at the end of the day, kissing Erin Voight will always be first on his priority list.


	53. That Time of the Year

Erin lies on her side with her legs curled up and her head resting in his lap, on top of his damp swimming trunks. His hand rose to move stray strands of hair out of her face as he peered down at the side of her head, "I must say future Mrs. Erin Halstead; you're doing really good at ignoring the people who are doing a horrible job in trying to sneak pictures." She rotated, moving onto her back while her feet dug into the towel, knees bent.

"It's not as easy as it looks," she muttered because the same person kept continually snapping photos of them and it was so obvious they were doing it, "I'm like one more picture away from saying fuck it and tossing their phone into the pool."

Jay shakes his head at that. He doesn't need her making a scene; he doesn't mind making one though, "Hey," he calls out, glare focused on the group of teenagers recording, "Put your phones away before I put them away for you," and that seems to do the trick because they're stuffing their cells into the pockets of their backpacks before dispersing and actually getting inside of the pool.

Each of the four teenagers cannon-balled into the pool, creating splashes that soaked the people in their surrounding vicinity, including Severide who was chatting with two beautiful ladies, despite the girlfriend he has at home in Chicago. She shoves two fingers into her mouth and whistles, and fortunately Kelly is close enough to hear, "Severide," she calls out to gain his undivided attention; "don't make me take a picture and send it to Ms. Stella Kidd," she threatened.

"Alright ladies, that's my cue," he moves through the water, heading towards the steps in the pool and walks over to take his seat beside the lovely couple, "Erin, that's not what friends do."

"Friends don't let friends make mistakes."

"I wasn't going to do anything with them," he spreads his towel out on the chair, "I was just complimenting and they were harmlessly flirting."

"…and how would Stella feel if she knew about the harmless flirting?"

Severide shrugged his shoulders and put on his dark shades, "She probably wouldn't care. I hope she wouldn't get jealous. I'm not into jealous girls."

"…and if the roles were reversed, would you be getting jealous?"

A moment of silence passed for too long and Jay chimed in, "She got you there buddy."

"I can't stand either one of you."

Erin laughed, "I love you too, Kelly."

As the sun tanned their skin, they enjoyed the comforts of each other's company as they talked about the plans for the months ahead. This was going to be their last full day without places to be and things to do; they had every intention of taking advantage of it. Severide's face was in his phone as he text –who Erin suspected to be Stella- and he was no longer paying attention to them or their conversation. Jay's hands started playing in her hair, twirling through strands before releasing them and doing it again, "The next few months are going to be hectic."

"Yeah," she sighed because she honestly didn't want to have to think about it, "but at least you're finished your anger management classes. That's one less thing you need to do. How does it feel? Are you a shitload smarter because you know how to manage your anger?"

He rolls his eyes, "I doubt it. If anything it just made me more aware of things I can do besides punching people in the face."

"…then I say the class was a success."

He leaned down to kiss her lips. His head hovering upside down above hers as his lips brushed over her own, "I can show you how to tame your anger."

"My anger doesn't need taming," she whispered back; both their lips continually brush against each other and Erin is pretty positive that people are taking photos. She's too distracted to care.

"Hey," a female voice interrupted and Jay sat up straight, pulling his head away from Erin to meet the woman's gaze, "find a room!" And Halstead doesn't even bother to verbally respond, he simply flashes his middle finger and flips the woman off.

"…and that's what you call taming your anger?" Erin sat up, laughing.

"Yes," he answered, very seriously, because that's a long way considering where he started, "It's not like I told her to shut the fuck up and mind her own fucking business. I could have said that, but I didn't."

"Ruthless, you are…"

She sat up further. And the two of them rearranged themselves to fit more comfortably on the seat. Her knees raised and parted as her back rested against the back of the chair. He crawled over, positioning himself in between her legs with his bare back pressed against her chest. She reached her arms around his shoulders and held him to her, kissing the side of his face, "She's glaring at you," Erin whispered against his ear, "and don't you dare," she slapped his hand when it started to lift up, "don't flip her off again. Her husband looks like he's two seconds away from storming over here and punching you in the face."

Jay scoffs, "I'd like to see him try. I'll flip him off too."

"I'm pretty sure this isn't what your anger management classes taught you."

"It still needs some time to sink in," he replied, staring across at the couple glaring at him, "seriously though Erin, I'm about two seconds away from storming over there myself."

"Alright then," Erin squeezes his biceps and urges him to get up, "let's go for a little walk to cool you off. I haven't taken any anger management courses but I'm pretty positive that a way to de-escalate your rising tension is to breathe and walk it off. There's a park in that direction."

He's comfortable. His back is resting against her breasts; he could feel her damp skin cool off his back as he rests against her. He doesn't want to leave, even if it's temporary, but Erin isn't letting up and she's nudging for him to get up to which he eventually does. He stands, holding out his hand for Erin to help her to her feet, "It's this way," she whispers, pointing off into the direction and she sees her guards are about to follow along until she stops walking, "we want to be alone. I won't be far. I'll just be in the park and if anything happens, I'll scream. Promise."

They shouldn't allow her to go off alone –even though she's with Jay- but they do. She's earned their trust and she's an adult that's definitely earned a few moments of privacy with her fiancé.

"Kelly," she stops in front of her friend; he's been so distracted by his phone that he wasn't aware of anything that happened in the last few minutes, "Jay and I are taking a walk. We'll be right back. Please behave, please."

"…don't I always?" He winks. And she doesn't even dignify that with a response.

Jay and Erin walk off, enjoying the silence and the solitude and even though she's a bit under-dressed for the park –she's wearing a bikini- it doesn't steal her joy because she's with the love of her life and he's just as under-dressed as she is. They approach a pond of ducks and there's a man selling bags of cracked corn and Jay doesn't hesitate to pull his wallet out of his pocket to buy a bag, "This is definitely overpriced."

She digs her hand inside of the bag and grabs a handful, "Yeah, well, what made you buy it? I was content just watching them swim."

"That would have been boring," he tosses a few bits towards the ducks surrounding the pond, "we needed to do something a bit more exciting."

"…and this is a bit more exciting?"

"Just a tad," he laughs.

Enjoying the silence, the two of them stand and sprinkle cracked corn onto the ground, watching as the ducks roam around and try to eat as much of it as possible. A toddler is watching; his mother is reading a book and he smiles and claps his hands at the wandering ducks. Once the three year old starts to walk away, his mother looks up from her seated position, "Here you go kid," Jay extends the bag of cracked corn and gleefully the kid reaches in, grabs a handful and mimics what the two adults were doing by sprinkling the food onto the ground.

His mother gets up, "I am so sorry," she leaves her book behind on the blanket to jog over, "I apologize on behalf of my son. I'm sure the two of you are very busy."

Erin glances down at her swimsuit because she's standing in flip-flops at a pond wearing a bikini. It's safe to assume that she's not busy at all, but Erin knows that her presence sometimes intimidates people and can make even the most confident and boastful person shy. She takes the bag of cracked corn from Jay and holds it out to the mother, "It's for your son to continue to feed the ducks. He seems to be enjoying it way more than we are."

The mother blushes and gently takes the bag, "Tha…thanks," she looks down at her son, "and what do you say to Ms. Voight?"

"Thank you," his innocent voice mumbled and the way he said the word made it so adorable.

Erin smiled, "You're welcome," she waves at the little boy as he and his mother approach the eating ducks. The two of them remain standing there, watching the kid and his mom laugh and throw cracked corn to the ground until the bag was empty.

"What are you thinking?" He nudges her arm. And the two of them start walking off in the direction of a public restroom.

"I'm just thinking about how I can't wait until we have babies," she gushed as they reached the small, brick building that probably housed decrepit restroom that only someone with a weak bladder would even attempt to go to, "We're going to make awesome parents." He swung her around and her back slams into the bricks, "I can't wait until we're pregnant."

"…yeah," he whispered, nuzzling his face in her neck, "we can actually start practicing right now, you know, for when it's time to actually start trying."

He's playing with the straps of her bikini. He doesn't untie them though.

He starts tugging at her bottoms, gripping her ass and pulling her forward to flush her core against his. He starts kissing and biting down onto her neck. And he wants to take his time but because they're in public, realistically they know they can't risk it.

With a hard thrust, Jay filled Erin completely and he had to pause for a moment at the angle and the grip her core had around him. He was the perfect fit, fuck, even at this angle. She was made for him in all ways that existed. When he started to move again, dragging out slowly before pushing back in; he swallowed her moan with his lips, kissing her hard to suppress the uproar of satisfaction she wanted to cry out. He had to be precise; he had to be quick. He reached down, between them, and used his hand to work alongside his thrusts to bring her the perfect bliss, whispering the three most important words to her against her lips, "I love you."

"I hope we never lose this," she says as he carefully lowers her back to her feet. He holds onto her. It feels like her legs are about to give out. She had her hands pressed against his bare chest, using it to balance herself, "I don't want this side of our relationship to ever go away." She ducked her head into Jay's chest, "I need to clean up before we go back out there; I could feel you dripping down my leg."

"…maybe you should just let it be," he replies, earning a slap against the chest, "just joking, but on a serious note, nah, I don't think this'll change, not if we don't let it."

He'd only gotten a few minutes of that harmonious reprieve, of the sound of Mother Nature surrounding them. And he holds onto her as her opened palms rest against his chest, "We should really adjust our swimsuits." His hands drag down her body and he adjusts the straps of her bikini top and the band on her bikini bottoms, "Thank you," she whispered against his chest, pressing her lips against it as her mouth moved, "…so much."

"No problem, now, are you going to return the favor?"

-x-

Kelly's still in town and it's truly been the best thing. Erin loves him and she wants him to be a part of every crevice in her life. It's why he's her man of honor. It's why she tells him everything. It's why she's protective of him; she'll defend him with her last breath and for all intents and purposes, he was her best friend. That word, that deep word, felt so powerful when uttered from her breath because the last best friend she had was brutally killed for the sole reason of her relationship to Erin. Nadia died because she was her best friend and that took years to overcome; she's still trying to forgive herself for the role her guilt tells her she played in her death. Proof in how she knows that she's slowly but surely making progress in her grief is the fact that she's able to label Kelly with what he is, -her best friend.

And as her best friend, he's used his vacation days to spend that time with her. He's still in D.C. because he left capable people in charge while he's away on personal leave. Chicago won't burn down in the timespan that he's gone. At least he hopes it doesn't... Kelly saw Erin in the same light that she saw him and when he saw a hashtag best friend goals trending with pictures of the two of them online, it brought a smile to his face, "Er," he calls out, quickening his step to catch up to her. They were visiting the fourth and last house for the day and she and Jay were currently following the real estate agent around as she pointed out different facets of the abode, "Erin."

It must have been important, at least to Severide it was, because Erin turns away from the real estate agent in order to give him her undivided attention. She wasn't interested in this house anyway; if anything, he spared her from the slow death of boredom that was coming if the real estate agent pointed out one more expensive tile or overpriced chandelier. It was something out of a catalogue; it's a house her mother would buy. This wasn't her; this wasn't them.

Erin is looking at him, and when he holds out his phone for her to take, she does. She follows along and plays pretend like she's listening to the real estate agent as she checks out the number three trending topic.

Jay is looking over her shoulder, "What is it?" It's obvious that he's not interested in this house either. That's good. It makes it easier when they tell the real estate agent that they're not interested. She tilts the phone upwards a bit so he can see, "Kelly and I are trending."

"…best friend goals," he reads over her shoulder, "that's cute."

Severide scoffed, taking his phone back, "Cute? I'm many things, hot, sexy, sensual and many other things, but cute is not one of them."

"Can we get back on topic please?" She snatches his phone back so she could continue scrolling, "this is nice. It's basically the anniversary of when we first met and social media is honoring that. That's adorable. Look Jay," she shows him a picture on the screen, "that's me and Kelly, in ummmm," she glances over to Severide and flashes him the photo on the screen.

"…junior year," he answers.

"Yes," she turns the phone back to Jay, "that was junior year and we were about to give a presentation in one of our criminal justice classes. Aw, how did they find this picture? Save it Kelly."

Kelly takes his phone back when the real estate agent clears her throat. Yeah, they weren't interested in the house but it didn't mean they had to be rude about it. All three of them whisper their apologies before finishing off the tour. It only lasted for another half an hour before they were back in front of the house, "This place is nice, but I think we're looking for something less…" Erin couldn't find the word.

Jay could though, "extravagant."

"You wanted a house with at least four bedrooms and three bathrooms in a nice neighborhood with a low crime rate and decent schools nearby. This place is perfect. It's walking distance to the elementary school a couple of blocks over."

Severide looks back and forth between his two friends, "…is there something the two of you aren't telling me?" Jay blushes. Erin smirks.

"No, we're just thinking about the future," is Erin's simple reply. It sounds good and Severide doesn't question it further.

Jay looks away from Severide because he absolutely cannot handle him and his facial expressions right now. Instead, he focuses on the real estate agent, scribbling notes onto the clipboard held in her grip, "We don't want anything huge. This place is ridiculously big. It took us practically an hour just to tour it. It has ten bedrooms. It's just me and Erin right now and when we do have kids, we're not having enough to fill every room in this house."

"…and when we said at least four bedrooms, we didn't mean to imply that we would be cool with any number above four. We should put a max on it," Erin clarified and Jay agreed with the silent nod of his head, "…at least four bedrooms and no more than six."

The real estate agent sighed and jotted down that added bit of information. She was a bit stressed out because she wasn't just searching for anyone a house. She was searching for the house of the first daughter and her future husband. She had to get this right especially because it'll mean a boost in business for her company. She just needed patience because out of all the homes she showed them today, none of them were the right fit. She would have to go back to the drawing board and maybe she'll bring in a few of her interns to help. This was a vital moment in her career and she didn't start her own real estate company just to flop the second things got hard.

Four houses they had saw today. And none of them were the perfect fit.

The first one was too small. It was a four bedroom two-story house but it had no backyard and parking was only available on the street. No garage.

The second had a garage and lawn space but the house was a little too close to the neighboring high school and neither wanted to live that close to teenagers.

The third had a small kitchen space -which Erin didn't mind but Jay did- and the basement was going to need serious remodeling. For as much as the house was selling for, the owners should have at least considered fixing the basement up themselves or reducing the selling price.

And now the fourth house was too big, too extravagant and while they had the money for it, they didn't want to unnecessarily spend it.

"Okay, you're paying the big bucks. I'll go back and call the two of you in a few days so we can go looking at the next batch I find. And I guarantee, you'll like one of them."

"We're counting on it." Erin shakes her hand.

Roman opens the door for the real estate agent and after she walks out, they all follow behind. It's a crowd outside and Erin is even happier that they decided not to go with this house. She didn't want any of his fans to know where they live. People were calling Jay's name and it felt like the Fourth of July concert all over again, but instead of Jay approaching them or waving for them to approach him, he takes her hand and moves alongside her.

"I don't know how y'all do this," Severide uttered under his breath.

Jay shrugs, "You get used to it."

"I have yet to get used to it," Erin reminds and she silently thanks Roman when he passes her a pair of dark shades to shield her eyes from the flashing lights. Her guys were so protective.

"I can't imagine this on the daily," Kelly gets to the car first and since the crowd is after photos of her and Jay, he opens the door and waves for them to enter first, "If I ever thought about being on you guys' celebrity level, this definitely changed my mind."

"You don't mean that," Erin says, on the verge of cracking a joke, "you live for the attention."

"I live for good attention," Severide clarifies as he hops inside next, "and as a celebrity, you can't pick and choose. You get both."

"…ain't that the truth," Erin said through gritted teeth. No one heard though. The crowd was too busy either chanting Jay's name or shouting questions at them. Do his fans ever get tired? And that answer was received when the group of them started to surround the vehicle. With their posters being shoved and pressed against the windows of the truck, trying to smear the words against the windows in order to allow Jay to read their declarations of love.

It seems that their infatuation has only grown with the increase in District 21's success. It appears that the love and adoration his fans and even spectators have had for the man has only tripled since the release of his most recent album. It was on its way to the number one position on all major charts and billboards and if his fans kept buying and streaming then by next month, his band is guaranteed that spot and if they keep it up, his album will be on its way to becoming certified platinum. This album is projected to be their best one yet and the band hoped it lived up to those predictions. Their prior albums were great –all certified diamond- but if this one makes it to platinum then it'll be their first.

With the fans growing excitement outside, her guys frustration and irritation had grown inside the vehicle. Her guards were all talking to each other, voices hushed as they sorted through the many ways they could tackle the problem that is Jay's fans surrounding their car.

"Start the engine and just run them over," Sorensen remarked –and it didn't sound like he was joking. All eyebrows in the truck rose as they looked at him with questionable expressions. He simply shrugs in response of their silence, "It may have been a dumb suggestion but no offense Jay, I'm about tired of your fans. Our jobs are already hard and it only makes it harder."

"…sorry," Jay whispers.

"You don't have to apologize," Erin chimed in while patting his thigh, "it's not really your fault," she looks from her fiancé then back to her guards, "Can't you guys call the cops or intimidate them with your size or something?" Her guys laugh. None of them actually give her an answer though, but Dawson and Roman who both sit in the front do step out of the car, dark shades on and doors slamming behind them. The smiles on their faces are gone and maybe that's the answer? Maybe they took her suggestion? Hmm, she smirks and watches.

She hears his fans requesting pictures or autographs. They drove all this way, following them, just to get a signed photo from their favorite celebrity. And he may have went out there to appease them, but Erin had to get to work. She's been dividing her time, taking advantage of early hours and late nights in order to scratch things off her to-do list. She didn't have time today for him to be the gracious celebrity that he is, "What are they saying?" She hears Severide ask.

"…no clue," Jay answers, struggling to read their lips.

"Kev," she looks to Atwater, silently reiterating Severide's question because she's curious.

"Just giving a warning; you can't just surround a vehicle like that, especially a government vehicle performing duties in an official capacity; we're carrying precious cargo such as yourself," he winked. Kelly nodded. Jay agreed. And she laughed. She loved her guys, all of them –the ones getting paid and the ones who aren't- because she knew she wasn't the easiest person to protect or be around sometimes and that never got in the way of their care for her.

-x-

The moment August eventually rolled in, what they thought was busy filled days, they soon realized actually weren't. It was laughable actually, to think that the months prior they thought they didn't have any actual downtime should have been the joking stock of the century. It's this month; it's the month of August that's going to be their downfall.

They have the rehearsal dinner.

They still have to look at a few more houses.

They need to finish packing up her condo. Her condo was on the market now and people were already looking at it.

And she still has to work and close out and finish her open cases.

She had a bridesmaids luncheon –which she recently cancelled after realizing that realistically it would not fit anywhere in her schedule. It wasn't mandatory to have one. It would have been a waste of time that she didn't honestly have to waste. If anything, she was going to go through with it for her mother. Not anymore though, that was the first thing to be cancelled after looking at her work schedule and the schedule of things she has to do that involves moving or preparing for the wedding. They're already having a rehearsal dinner and that should be enough.

They still have to apply for their marriage license.

They have to select a wedding cake.

And they have their bachelor and bachelorette parties because apparently August was going to be the only month they were going to have the entire wedding party in the city –besides the day of her wedding- and it was the only month that had an available date –if one could believe- that could fit their bachelor and bachelorette parties.

It was only August. She didn't want to think about what September and October would have in store for them, considering it's so close to their November wedding and the presidential election.

It's that time of the year where their days will be filled with things to do and very little down time. It's that time where the days will go by much faster since they'll be stuffed with events, work, decisions and preparations for the event of the year.

It was all too much and if Erin thought about it for too long then she was going to pull her hair out. Is this how wedding planning is for most people? Or is she a part of the unlucky few?

After looking at another three houses today, and realizing that none of them were the perfect match, Erin and Jay got to the White House over half an hour late to their own rehearsal dinner. Her mother wasn't too happy about that but there was very little she could do. You couldn't really have a rehearsal dinner without the bride and groom. She handed, or more like shoved, the clipboard holding the itinerary into the arms of her assistant as she raced over, "Well about time," she exclaimed, heels clicking against the marble floors with every speedy step she took towards them, "I really didn't want to have to reschedule. It's already so hard to get all of you, especially your father, in one room at the same time."

"Sorry mom," Erin muttered at the exact same time that Jay said, "sorry Mrs. V."

"It's quite alright, just join in, everyone is already seated and I made sure that your seats were left vacant," she waved for them to follow her into the dining area, "right there, you two, sit."

The dining area was decorated in the colors of their wedding. For the sole purpose of the rehearsal dinner, her mother had gone all out on the decorations. From the blush colored tablecloth, the white drapes and folded napkins to the frost colored silverware and the boysenberry serving dishes, every color of her wedding was present. The decorative flowers in the center of the rounded table were a mixture of her wedding colors, -boysenberry, frost, white and blush. It was beautifully decorated, "Wow mom, you spared no expense."

"That's what I said," Justin scoffed, filling his glass with wine.

" _Justin_!" Camille exclaimed, scurrying on over to him and snatching the bottle of wine from his hands, "Didn't I say to wait for Erin and Jay?"

"…well they were taking too long," he remarked, throwing his head back and guzzling down what little bit of wine he managed to get into his glass before his mother intercepted, "and besides they're here now."

"Patience will get you far in life."

"Yeah, yeah, it's a virtue and all that, I know mom, sorry, I was just thirsty."

Erin snickered, "you have a glass of water right there," she pointed out. He already knew that.

"I know that, I just wasn't thirsty for water, but," he turned away from his sister and focused on his mother now seated in the chair next to him, "now that Erin's here, can I have that back please?" She scoffed but she didn't say no hence why he reaches for the bottle and pours himself an actual serving of red wine.

It wasn't time to eat yet. The food was still being prepared and technically the wedding rehearsal came before the actual rehearsal dinner so everyone in the dining area –her parents, Justin, Jay, Kelly, his band and their significant others- all filed outside into the backyard to practice while the finishing touches were placed upon the food.

"Let's do this again," Camille shouted, after sticking two fingers into her mouth and whistling.

"I don't see the point in all of this," Erin groaned, dragging her feet to the back patio doors of the house, "we've already went through this twice."

"Sweetheart, it's because the day of your wedding we want everything to go off without a hitch."

Erin nodded and intertwined her arm with her father's arm. He stood, posture straight as he waited for his orders, "Your wife is something else."

"She's perfect, isn't she?"

Erin turned her head away from the scene in front of her –her mother arranging placement and talking to a hired pianist about different notes she wants him to hit while Erin is walking down the aisle- and she smiles at her dad. He's staring at his wife, a love struck expression on his face, and Erin realizes that when she's married to Jay for as long as her parents have been married to each other, she hopes he stills looks at her the way her dad looks at her mother after all these years.

"If my relationship with Jay is half as good as yours then I'd call it a success."

Her dad blinks out of whatever reverie he had been in and he turned to face his daughter, meeting her eyes, "You really mean that?"

"Yeah, you guys are the whole package. You both are successful in many aspects of life: career, family and marriage. The two of you raised two pretty good kids in the public eye. I'm the woman I am today because of the two of you, and watching you love mom, really taught me how to love and how to be loved. I didn't accept anything less than what I deserve…and that's Jay."

Voight blinked. He soon brought her into his arms, holding her with all the love, protection and devotion of a father and pecked her forehead, "I'm really happy to hear that, kid." And he was because all he wants for his children is for them to be happy and healthy.

"Alright, on the count of three, Hank," she pauses because he's not paying attention, "Hank, honey, yeah, over here," he finally looks to meet his wife's gaze, "I want you and Erin to begin walking down the aisle and please remember to walk to the beat of the song, there is no reason to rush. Jay isn't going anywhere."

"…promise I'm not," Jay holds up his pinky. Camille rolls her eyes and moves over to the side in order to get out of the way.

"And Severide remember," Camille turns to face the man standing to the left of her, "I know there's no altar up here and there are no decorations yet, but I need you to use your imagination and when Erin is with Jay, don't step too far back, you'll bump into the potted flowers that'll be right there on her wedding day."

When Camille is asked to do a job, she takes it very seriously. Will stands to the side of Jay, as his recently named best man, and even though this isn't the actual wedding, he couldn't help but stand with his head held high as he smiles at his brother with all the pride one man can muster.

"Mom would be so proud if she could see you now." Jay hears him whisper from over his shoulder. He turns his head slightly to meet his brother's eyes, "You really think so?"

"…hell yeah. She would have loved Erin. She would have really loved Camille. She would have been so proud of you and all you've accomplished. I'm proud of you too bro."

Jay turns around fully, and envelopes his brother into his arms. While he waited the longest to actually select a best man, he never once regretted his decision since he made it.

"Thank you," he pats his brother on the back, "that means…that really means a lot."

"Halstead brothers," Camille calls out, clapping her hands to gain their attention, "yeah, sorry to interrupt but we're in the middle of something right now and it would be really great if I can have both of your undivided attention."

The two men face forward and wait and after rehearsing the wedding two more times, Camille feels a little more confident that the day should go off without any problems. The food is ready. Everyone is back in their assigned seats and Severide and Will had both just given beautiful toasts dedicated to the engaged couple.

"Now, if anyone has any questions about the wedding day, please, do not hesitate to ask," her mother continues after a plate of food is placed down in front of her.

"Yeah," Erin raises her hand, "I have a question." Everyone at the table sighs, "What? I do," and her mother waves for her to continue, "why did we do the rehearsal dinner this week and not the week before the wedding like tradition usually states?"

"I had to plan it according to schedules. Severide won't be back until the day before your wedding and up until your wedding –and Election Day I should add- your father is practically all booked up. And then you have work honey and I didn't even want to figure out a method to that madness you call a work schedule. It was just easier to do it in August than November."

It made total sense. And Erin had no follow up questions –which everyone at the table was grateful for- and besides the sound of soft music filling the background, the only other noises heard was the sound of silverware brushing against the plates. Erin finds herself immersed in a conversation with Natalie and Kim; they're both updating her on just how well her fiancé's album has been doing on all charts on an international scale and to say that she's amazed and so proud is probably the biggest understatement of the century.

Natalie is refilling her glass with wine as she updates her, "Apparently, their streams are at half a million already and fans continue to stream it. The album sales are up there too; not as high as the streams but it's still rising." She takes a sip, "I bought the album and I'm streaming it. I'm doing both."

"…same," Burgess agreed, "I bought a bunch of their albums and I'm mailing them to family members once I get back to Chicago. Just a wife supporting her husband…"

"You guys are making me look bad," Erin blushed, gulping down the remaining drops of wine in her glass, "I bought the digital album and I listen to it when I'm working out. I wanted to buy a physical copy of it and play it in the car but Jay gets weird when it comes to watching people listen to his music and he told me the digital copy is enough."

"…then it's enough," both Burgess and Natalie say in unison.

Erin opens her mouth to argue against their attempt to relieve her of the sudden guilt she feels. If Kim is going the extra mile for Ruzek then she should do the same for Jay regardless of what he says. She whips out her phone and loads up her Amazon account, deciding to add a shitload of copies to her cart –and maybe they can be wedding presents for the guests; is that tacky- and she doesn't even hesitate to purchase them after adjusting the address and choosing for it to be sent here rather than her home. It'll be more convenient to have them here and once they actually arrive, there's very little Jay can say about it. It's her way of supporting and promoting her man. She'll just need to remind herself to say something to her mother's assistant so she can be on the lookout for it.

"What did you do?" Burgess smirks over the rim of her glass. And just when Erin opens her mouth to whisper it across the table, she sees her father stand up in her peripheral, sitting down his napkin onto his empty plate before waving for Jay to follow him out of the room.

Her fiancé doesn't follow, at least not right away, -smart man.

He actually sits, confused, because her father said no words, only made eye contact before nodding for him to go to the hallway.

Erin squeezed Jay's thigh, "Want me to come with you?"

"Nah," he covered her hand with his, "I got this. It's not like your father is going to hurt me."

"If he tries, just scream and I'll be there."

Jay rises to his feet, dropping the napkin that once covered his lap onto the floor, "I don't scream babe," the members of his band scoffed and rolled their eyes at his macho attitude.

"…you don't scream in public," Erin winked. And most of the people at the table groaned –Jay included- because it's one thing to know that Jay and Erin have an active sex life but it's an entirely different thing when you get verbal confirmation of that sex life.

"Halstead," the voice of the president filled the room when Voight ducked his head through the crack of the door to order the young man to follow, "I do have other things to do."

"Dad," Erin groaned.

"Hank," her mother says in unison with her daughter's complaint, "be nice."

Halstead leaves the dining area. And Erin picks the napkin up off the floor and sits it beside his empty plate. There's an awkward silence that settles in the room but Camille takes that as her opportunity to go over more wedding details, purposely speaking louder than her typical indoor voice to ensure that no one could hear the conversation outside even though the voices of Hank and Jay are getting harder to hear the more they move away from the dining room.

Once the dining room's door shut behind him, Jay makes small talk as he follows the president to his personal office and even though Jay had once gotten a tour of this historical home, he had never had the chance to see inside of the personal office of the president –not to be mistaken with the Oval office. The door is pushed open and Voight nods for him to walk inside, "You can relax, Halstead, I'm not going to bite." The door shuts behind the two of them and they're surrounded by absolute darkness for a few seconds before Hank turns on the light, "You can sit."

"I uh," Jay scratches the back of his neck, "I would prefer to stand."

"…suit yourself," Voight shrugs, leaning himself against the edge of his desk, "I just…well um… I," Hank is having trouble finding a place to start in the conversation, "I want you to know that even though I've given you a hard time about…everything, I'm not as against you and my daughter's relationship as I once was," and when there's a long pause, Jay realizes that that's as best of a statement of acceptance as Hank Voight is willing to give, but Jay doesn't complain about it because he'll take it. He's grateful for it. He's worked for months for something, anything hinting that the sitting president is willing to give him a chance and accept his relationship with Erin.

Jay smiled, "…thank you sir."

"No," Voight clears his throat because the next few words he says, make him a bit vulnerable, "thank you, Jay, because…god did I forget how to talk?" Jay doesn't know if that's a joke but he laughs anyway and maybe it was the wrong reaction because Voight doesn't smile, he glares.

"Sorry sir," Halstead takes a step back, putting a little bit more distance between the two of them.

"It's just, I haven't seen my girl that genuinely happy in a long time. I would be stupid not to acknowledge that and I may have questioned your love and your motives, but these last few months, what you did for her in regards to Nadia and everything, that was just…" his words start to fumble again and instead of searching the crevices of his brain for a word, he extends his hand. And Jay doesn't hesitate to shake it, practically yanking the arm of his future father-in-law so hard that it threatens to tear from his socket. Voight doesn't complain. And that speaks volumes. Hank releases his hand and squeezes his shoulder, "…just make you take care of her, always, because if you do anything to hurt her and I mean anything, I won't be so quick to forget or forgive."

"You have my word sir, I will never, could never, hurt her."

Hank nods and turns to leave his office, opening the door to reveal the reddened face of his daughter as she stumbled into the room, "My, my, my, aren't you nosey?"

"I have the right against self-incrimination. I'm pleading the fifth."

Voight laughs and shakes his head, only stopping to peck his daughter on the side of her head before leaving the two of them alone, "How I leave my office is how I expect to find my office."

"Oh my gosh," Erin face-palms, "dad please." He leaves the two of them alone. And that embarrassment she once felt morphed into happiness when she saw the stunned looked on her fiancé's face. He doesn't even appear to realize that she's in the room. And lucky for him, he didn't hear her dad's remark when he was leaving the room. Jay's stunned silent.

"Babe," she brings her hand up to rest against the side of his face, breaking him out of whatever reverie he found himself lost in.

"…your dad approves," he whispered and if it wasn't for the slow nod of her head, he wouldn't have thought she heard him, "your dad practically gave us his blessing. Your dad likes me." And Jay didn't realize how much he needed the approval of her dad until this moment. He lifted Erin up into his arms, twirling her around and basking in the sound of her soft giggles.


	54. Red Lipstick

"I feel like a spy," Erin whispered, pulling the sunhat further down onto her head to hide her face, "and like an undercover detective or a private investigator or a combination of all three," she says a little too enthusiastically, and she can barely stay still because they're in the parking lot of the courthouse and between dressing in a disguise and soon applying for a marriage license, she had every reason to be a big ball of excitement, "I can't believe we're actually hiding our identities just to go inside and apply for a marriage license." Erin pushed the sunglasses up to cover her eyes as Jay grabbed one of the hats from Atwater. The wig on her head was long and black and if Jay didn't know who Erin was, he wouldn't have recognized her.

This whole disguise thing wasn't even his idea; he wasn't even all for it, but with how much happiness is radiating off of his future wife, he couldn't say no. Hence, it's why he's wearing a hat, sunglasses and a fake mustache to hide his handsome face. He felt like he looked ridiculous –he did- but he'd do anything for her and if no one approached, if no one shouted their names, and if no one recognized them, then no matter how stupid he looked or how ridiculous he felt, it was a success and it was all worth it. It was worth a shot, he kept telling himself, it was all worth it. And if anything, it'll definitely be a tale to share with generations down the line.

"…maybe we could call and see if they'll meet with you all after hours when the place clears?" It was an option given to them by Roman but neither of them wanted to pull rank and drop their names in order to get favors. Jay adjusted the mustache above his lip; it itched and he really wanted to get this over with so he could rip it off, "we're already here. We might as well go inside and get this out of the way. I hate standing in lines and it looks really crowded here."

"It's not too late to go with my suggestion," Roman reminds. Erin and Jay shook their heads.

The young couple walked as casually as they could into the building, holding each other's hands and weaving through the crowds of people all here for different reasons. With her guards spreading out and giving them space as to not draw attention, it all appeared to be a success. Jay led her to the elevators and the second they entered and pressed the floor that the county clerk office was located on, she sighed and took off her sunglasses, "I feel like we'll draw in more attention wearing these," she hands them to Roman, "it kind of draws attention when you wear sunglasses inside. Take yours off," she reaches up to do it for him and she hands those to Roman too. He pockets both of them in the inside pockets of his suit jacket.

"Isn't it kind of rude to wear hats inside of buildings?" Jay whispered, slowly rocking side to side to the beat of the instrumental elevator music. Erin snatches the hat off the top of her head and she rolled her eyes when he did the same thing, "We should have worn disguises that we didn't have to remove inside," she grumbled.

As the elevator doors opened, her guards exited first and with their heads bowed down, they followed. No one was looking. Jay's mustache did a pretty decent job at obscuring his face, but if someone were to stare too long, then they'd notice him. Erin barely had any disguise left, only the wig on top of her head that was starting to make her sweat, "You know that wig looks hot on you," Jay nudged her arm as they followed her guards into the office, "you should wear that, behind closed doors, more often." When she looks at him, he winks at her. And now it's her turn to nudge his arm, "I'll let you rip it off me later."

Holding hands, they stand in line, waiting for it to be their turn to approach the counter. No one even looked their way. With her guards spreading out, trying to act subtle but miserably failing because it's hard to blend in when you're four big guys with the muscular build of a linebacker, dressed in suits, wearing shades with earpieces in their ears. Erin simply pretended like she didn't know them. It was easier that way.

"That mustache," she leans up onto her toes and rocks forward to press her chest against his, "is doing things to me just so you know."

"Hate to say this," he wraps his arms around her waist to hold her close and stabilize her, "but this mustache is going in the trashcan in the lobby once we leave."

"If I wear the wig then you have to wear the mustache…"

For a moment, he silently debates it. Staring at the bangs that covered her forehead, he attempts to sway her once more, "You're not going to like kissing me with this on my lip." She's always liked a challenge; she rose up and wrapped her arms around his neck to bring him closer to her lips, pressing her own against his and ignoring the tickle that the fake mustache caused against her upper lip. She's smiling into the kiss, slipping her tongue into his mouth and using that as a distraction against the brush of the mustache against her mouth, "I think," she pulls away and takes a large step back out of his arms, "I think I can tolerate the mustache…for a few minutes."

"You know I last longer than a few minutes."

Erin shrugs and moves forward in line.

"Hold up," he laughs, grabbing her wrist, "don't do me like that. You know how that can hurt a man's ego." He's joking; at least, he thinks he is.

She cups his face and mocks a pout, "Aw my baby," she squeezes his jaw causing his lips to pucker and she leans forward to brush her own lips against his, "you should know there's no reason for your ego to be hurt. And since we now have the condo to ourselves, you can remind me just why I shouldn't make implications like that." He quickly leaned forward to peck her lips and she released his jaw before taking another step away from him.

For the week, Kelly, Natalie, Kim, Will and the band had all returned to Chicago even though by the end of next week, they were all going to be back for the bachelor and bachelorette parties.

Kelly will be attending Jay's bachelor party and he released the planning reigns of Erin's bachelorette party to Natalie and Kim. He did offer them some suggestions on things Erin may like which she's grateful for, but she was a little disappointed that her best friend won't be with her. It's understood though. He would have been the only guy.

Neither of them had any idea on what they were going to do. It was all being kept a secret but with all their days being filled, it left no time for them to wonder or try to figure it out.

"Next," the couple hears causing both of them to snap out of their reverie. Jay tugs on his girl's hand in order to lead her over to the counter, "Hello," and based on the way she says it and the look in her eye, it's obvious that she doesn't recognize them.

"Hi," Erin is whispering because she knows that while she doesn't want anyone else to know it's her, it's kind of required for the clerk to know her information, "We're here to apply for a marriage license," and the paperwork process starts with both of their driver licenses being requested. Hesitantly, Erin slips it out of her wallet and passes it over, "I'm wearing a wig." The woman is confused and based on her expression, Erin explains, "We didn't want to be recognized so if you would keep our identities quiet, at least until we leave, we would really appreciate that." And the woman is elderly, and her gray hair is pinned up and her glasses keep falling to the tip of her nose, causing for the woman to regularly push them up.

Based on the slow nod of her head, the woman agrees, but she just cannot stop staring. She appears to be star struck, averting her gaze between the couple, "My grandson is a fan of yours."

"If you slip me an index card or a piece of paper, I can sign an autograph for him."

The woman nods and grabs a piece of paper from the printer to her left, "His name is Johnny."

She brings up the paperwork, scans their drivers licenses, and asks them the required questions to see if they qualify, "Are you paying the fee with cash, credit, check or money order?"

Jay is signing a message to her grandson on the blank sheet of paper as he uses his other hand to reach into his back pocket, "Credit," he answers, handing Erin his wallet, "use the red card." The marriage license is paid for, and as the woman goes over the finer details, he slips the autograph to her, "Here you go, ma'am." She whispers her thanks and sets it off to the side.

The county clerk gave the paperwork a once over, scanning each part to ensure it was accurate. She nodded towards the couple and grabbed her stamp, lifting it high before slamming it down. Seconds later she scans the license before filing it away, "Alright you two, I just want to give you my congratulations in advance. Once the paperwork is processed, it'll be mailed to you unless you would rather pick it up?"

"…mailed please," Erin chimes in. The woman writes that request down.

"When you receive the marriage license, at your ceremony, the two of you must sign it in front of at least two witnesses and the person who performs the ceremony and then it needs to be returned here, to the county clerk's office and once it's certified, we'll make copies and you'll get your official license. It should arrive in seven to ten business days. Congratulations."

Erin grabs a few pamphlets, detailing the process of obtaining a marriage license because she wants to read over it and the line is pretty long so if she asked the clerk all of her questions then the line would have only gotten longer. She meets her guards at the door and the group of them head over to the elevator, "Hat please," she plops it back onto her head, "Sunglasses," she slips those over her eyes and her full disguise is back.

Jay only puts back on the sunglasses; he doesn't bother with the hat. The mustache stays in place but he does find himself scratching against it, the little hairs tickling his upper lip. By the time they're back inside the truck, neither of them feel like doing anything besides kicking off their shoes and relaxing. It takes a lot of energy to immerse oneself into society and when you feel forced to disguise yourself, it takes even more energy out of you. Erin doesn't even feel like buckling her seat belt; Jay does it for her though.

"…thanks," she grumbled, head back and eyes closed.

He rips off the mustache before he buckles his own, "We just have to view a few houses and then we're free to go home and do whatever we want…me with the mustache and you with that wig."

"Do you think we'll find the house?" She turns her head, the side of it resting against the leather of the seat, "do you think we should adjust our requirements? Are we being too picky?"

"For as much money as we're paying her, nah, I don't think we're being picky enough," he laughs. She takes the wig off and throws it to the floor of the car.

The first house is a no. It didn't feel natural. Neither of them could put their fingers on what was wrong with it but it wasn't the right fit.

"This is already not going as planned," she muttered, climbing into the back of the truck behind Jay; they were planning to follow behind their real estate agent's Honda, "hopefully the next house is better." It wasn't. The next house was located on a busy street. The constant honking of horns was something neither of them wanted to hear in their home.

On their way to the third house, she's relaxing in his embrace. His arm wrapped around her shoulders, "When is Severide coming back for my bachelor party?"

She turns her head and buries her nose into the crook of his neck, "…the end of next week."

"Are you mad he's attending my bachelor party and not your bachelorette party?"

She shakes her head, "No, I don't want him to feel uncomfortable and I don't want him to be bored. I don't know what the girls have planned but I'm sure it's nothing he's interested in."

"Justin is coming too," he informs her. This is news to her.

"…really?"

"Yeah, I text him last night and he's down."

"Thanks for including him," she leans up to kiss the bottom of his jaw, "just make sure you guys don't do anything dangerous."

"I'm not planning it."

"Jay…"

"I can't guarantee anything."

"Just promise that no one will get hurt."

To placate her, he says, "I promise that no one will get hurt."

"…and no strippers," she adds.

"Only if you make that promise too." They intertwine their pinkies to seal the deal.

By the last house, Erin is dragging her feet. She barely has enough energy to continue but she's trying to push through. Erin goes into the house, deciding to take a look inside as the real estate agent gathers the necessary information and paperwork. She goes in with only Atwater and Roman following behind. She doesn't question the fact that Jay doesn't follow. She's too tired to even pay attention to his lack of presence.

"I got something for you," Jay announces some minutes later. Erin circles around to see him approaching her, holding up two cups of hot beverages, "It's coffee."

"Where'd you get this?" She's amazed. She's thankful.

"I saw a café down the street when we pulled up and I convinced your other guys to run me there."

Without any hesitation, she goes for the one he extends towards her. With little hesitation, she takes a sip, savoring the feel of the hot liquid running against her tongue, "You know," she leans back when he flushes himself against her, "I remember when you couldn't get my coffee order right. I mean," she pulls the lid away from her lips as her body relaxes against his, "it's not perfect and it's definitely not how I would make mine but it's drinkable."

He leans over, kissing her cheek, "Thanks babe," he rolls his eyes. She closes her eyes and brings the cup back to her mouth, taking another sip, "practice makes perfect and I think this is as good as it'll get." Erin continues to lean back, resting her back against his chest as one of his arms wraps around the front of her waist, "I should have put one more sugar in there, right?"

Her shoulders shrug, "…one, maybe two, it really depends."

Jay opened his mouth to respond, only to be cut off by the presence of their real estate agent walking inside. She had a pep in her step, almost bouncing in excitement at the prospect of showing them their perfect house. She sets her clipboard and stacks of paperwork down onto the fireplace mantel, "I'm really confident about this house," she says even though the last few days were filled with house viewings and none of them were the ones, "before I give you the tour, let me just say, this place has five bedrooms, it's between your minimum and maximum amount of bedrooms, it has five and a half bathrooms, a roundabout driveway, a two car garage attached to the side of the house and three floors, including a basement."

Erin nods slowly, "so far, so good."

"It's not walking distance to any schools but the neighborhood kids do get picked up by the school bus," she hesitantly informs them because she doesn't know if that's a deal breaker; it's not and she picks up on that when they continue to nod, "crime rate is low. There is a large backyard for your dog. How does all of that sound?"

"It sounds good," the two of them answer in unison.

His hand in hers, the two of them follow behind their real estate agent as she gives them a tour, starting in the full basement that stretches just as far as the first floor of the house did; then leading up to the functional kitchen with double ovens, a separate cooktop, a corner double basin kitchen sink and a walk-in pantry closet. They continue to walk through the first floor of the house, stopping in the spacious living room decked with a corner fireplace. The dining room has a bay window and based on the look on Erin's face, Jay can see she falls in love with it. She'll probably plan to have meals in the dining room just to enjoy the view of their large backyard. It's accessible from both the kitchen and the foyer. The family room captures his attention the most; it has two double doors that when opened leads to a large deck with stairs that leads down to the lawn. Nico would love this place. Any future kids they had would too.

Near the foyer, past the coat closet, past the first floor half-bathroom, towards the kitchen, there is a small laundry room –adorned with shelves built into the walls and a washer and dryer. As they are led up the split staircase, the real estate agent shows them each of the bedrooms, all of which have a connecting bathroom. The master bedroom stands out to them the most; it's obvious which one has the title. It's the biggest room of them all, stretching across double the space that two of the other rooms did combined. Erin pokes her head into the master bathroom and when she gasps, it makes Jay curious enough to lean in to take a peek, "Is that…"

"…a walk-in shower and a drop-in bathtub right in front of the window," she finishes.

"We would probably have to put a curtain in front of it," he replies, hand resting on her lower back, "because it looks nice and all but it's not really practical. I mean our naked asses would be on view for everyone to see. We wouldn't want to scar the poor neighbors."

"Curtains would be nice," Erin considers the idea and pictures it, "…maybe a white? I think I want an all-white bathroom."

The real estate agent approaches, "I hate to interrupt, but it sounds to me like the two of you have made a decision." She's holding the paperwork and she's holding a pen. She's smiling. After what felt like forever, after searching houses and narrowing down the ones that didn't seem like a good fit, she may have finally found their future house. If this is the house they want then she's celebrating tonight; she's not going into work tomorrow because she deserves a few days off after the trouble and after the nice check she's going to receive from closing the deal.

It's no rush. This is a big decision, but there hasn't been a house they've seen that Erin feels as passionate about, there hasn't been a house they've already viewed that Jay felt as sure about. A decision is going to be reached even if the real estate agent isn't rushing them. Erin takes his hand, tugs him towards her and looks up at his eyes, "It's in our price range."

"Yeah," he gently grips her chin, angling her head towards him, "and I know we still have to find a place in Chicago but I really love this house, Erin. How about this can be our permanent home?" It almost sounds too good to be true.

"Are you sure?"

He nods, "I still want us to take the year off but…no place will top this. And with all the hassle it has been to actually find a place, we'll have to do this all over again in Chicago when it's time to look for a place there. Let's not rush it. Let's enjoy this place. Let's move in."

So without further ado, the two of them nod their heads eagerly towards the real estate agent and they spend the rest of the day signing their names along the dotted lines.

-x-

"This is nice," in her left hand she holds a glass of red wine and in her right hand she holds a paint brush dipped in the light shade of brown –created after she mixed the dark shade of brown with white, "I'm glad you guys decided to add this to the list of things to do."

Kim sips her wine, "I had a feeling you would like this."

"She only knew because Severide told her," Natalie remarked, holding up her empty glass as she patiently waits for a refill, "He told her that you always wanted to do a paint and sip." Kim elbows her in the side and it's a good thing that Natalie's glass was empty because it definitely would have spilled from the action.

It was more than just your average paint and sip. It was the bachelorette special. The room is filled with mostly soon-to-be brides and their bridesmaids and they're all painting the nude man posed in the center of the room. The man was well-built, muscular and finely shaped. He had to be in his late-twenties, early thirties and based on just how well-defined his body is, no woman in the room can blame him for showing it off.

"I swear," Hallie sighed, staring straight at the naked man, "if I wasn't so head over heels for Mouse, I would definitely be slipping that man my number."

" _Hallie_ ," each of them exclaim in shock because she's just so sweet and innocent and to hear her talk like that –even if they agreed with what she said- was surprising.

"What," she laughs, sipping the rest of her wine, "you know you agree."

Erin nods, "we never said we disagreed." She dips her brush back into the paint before lifting it up to continue to form the model's silhouette.

The atmosphere around them was relaxed and filled with brides-to-be and their wedding parties all whispering, laughing and chatting it up with one another. In her peripheral, Erin could see all of them sneaking photos of her, typically by way of holding their phones up in the air, aiming it over their heads and quickly pressing the center button to take as many pictures as possible, blurry and clear, it didn't matter because they'll look through them later to sort it out. She's actually surprised that no one has approached her yet, or at least waved and greeted her from a distance because the former could be chalked up to her guards standing nearby and the fear of what they'll do if a collection of tipsy women run up to her.

Erin narrows down her concentration to focus on stroking the paintbrush against the canvas. She's filling in his skin tone and being mindful to add careful strokes to showcase his muscular chest and groin. Her mouth is slightly parted, eyes are squinting and tongue pressed against the roof of her mouth. She's so into perfecting her painting that she doesn't hear the conversation around her, "Er," she feels Burgess nudge her. And fortunately Erin managed to move her paintbrush off the canvas fast enough because if Kim had caused her to mess up, she was going to get her wedding invitation revoked.

"What Kimberly?" Erin drops her paintbrush into the cup of water.

"Your glass is refilled."

Suddenly noticing that the glass in her left hand was filled with red wine relaxed her shoulders. She brought the glass to her lips before reaching over to grab the smallest paintbrush, using it to initial the bottom of the canvas now that she's finished. The background of her painting was a cream color with sprinkles of off-white, purposely choosing those colors to make the object of the painting, the nudity of the man, his silhouette and complexion stand out. Erin chose not to incorporate the platform he's standing on into her painting. Instead, outlining the sheet that once covered his hips before they started but now rested at his feet. It laid at the ground of her painting, his toes noticeable through the opened gaps and as her eyes skimmed up his toned legs, landing on his dangling penis for a few seconds before counting his abs –six, she had to make sure she counted right the first time she painted them. Her eyes continued up her painting before averting back and forth between the canvas and the model to ensure that his real-life tattoo was documented correctly in her work. The tattoo stretched from his bicep, wrapped around his tricep before ending at his pec, covering the left one entirely. The tattoo design was complex and she couldn't actually make out what it is because it incorporates multiple designs and shapes and even though the entirety of the painting made her proud, it was redrawing his tattoo that made her the proudest. Erin continued to scan the rest of her painting, making sure that she didn't leave anything out, and as her eyes went up his neck, landing on his Adam's apple for a few seconds before taking in his face, she gave herself a mental pat on the back. He had a little scruff and she made sure to include that. It was one of her favorite things on a man –her own man included- so she couldn't leave that out.

Erin swallowed roughly as her eyes started to scan the painting once again, "Um," she gulps down the rest of her wine; she's getting a little hot, "where are we going after here?" She asks in an effort to distract herself, "and where is my man?" She needed him, like, right now. She pulled out her phone.

"I'm not sure what the guys are doing today. Will wouldn't tell me," Natalie answered and based on the look of her painting, it's obvious she came more for the wine than the activity, "and we have a date with the-" before she can answer, she's hit twice –once by Kim and once by Hallie.

Hallie quipped, "It's a surprise."

 _Where are you, -EV_

She wanted to know where Jay was and the best way to find out was from the source's mouth, but when her text goes unread for the next ten minutes, she's forced to believe that one of his friends must have taken his phone. That wasn't actually the case though. His phone sat in a locker with his other possessions that typically remained in his pockets but due to the fast-pace, thrilling combat sport of paintballing, it was safer for those items to be locked away.

Jay hides behind a barrier, panting, out of breath as he holds his paintball gun to his chest. He had just taken his brother out of the game, shooting red paintballs square into his chest. Jay had run off, seeking shelter before his brother's team –Ruzek, Rixton and Mason, their entertainment lawyer- arrived onto the scene to defend their team captain. This wasn't the way Jay pictured his bachelor's party, but it's still daylight and he doesn't know what else his friends have in store for him. He jumps, his back hitting against the steel barrier shielding him from sight when Severide runs up next to him, "Mouse is out," he's out of breath, "they got him right in the back."

"I got Will. He's out too so our teams are still even."

Severide crouches down, resting his knees in the dry dirt, shouldering off his paint gun to relieve his shoulders of the slight ache, "Where's Justin?" That's their other teammate.

Jay shrugs, "I'm not sure," he readjusts his grip around the paint gun, "but we have to keep moving. We don't need to stay in one spot for too long."

Ducking low and moving quickly, the two of them rush towards a bush, hiding behind it before peeking over the top of it to see if they could find Ruzek, Rixton or Mason.

"I'm pretty sure Mason won't last long," Severide whispered, and it was kind of hard for him to speak clearly with the safety mask on, "it's weird seeing your entertainment lawyer outside of his suit and tie. How hard was it convincing him to join?"

"…not that hard," Jay whispered, leaning to the side to see if the new angle would help him hear his surroundings better, "I just gave him a little raise. We needed teams to be even."

"I'm sure Voight would have loved to come."

"Yeah, no, the last thing I need is to be tackled because I shot him with a paint gun."

Severide laughs, and it's pretty loud, and suddenly they hear a rush of footsteps and someone –who sounds like Ruzek- shout 'over here.' The two of them focus, spotting a clearing up ahead that'll put distance between their team and the other. Ruzek jumps out in front of them, maneuvering his gun to angle at Jay, "A team captain for a team captain," he says out of some sort of retribution for Jay taking Will out of the game.

"Just not the balls," Halstead asserts, dropping his paintball gun and covering his groin, "my future wife would tear you to shreds if you hurt her jewels."

"…her jewels," Severide repeats, shaking his head and clearing the image, "yeah, just shoot him so we don't have to acknowledge this conversation."

"What kind of teammate are you?"

And suddenly a splatter of red paint spreads across Ruzek's shoulder, before two more paintballs suddenly hit him, splashing red paint across his hip and leg and the sound of Justin cheering makes its way towards their ears, "I got another one," he runs over, "Adam, you're out of the game. I got Mason too so that means only Rixton is left." He high-fives Severide.

"Are you serious?" Ruzek groans, throwing his paint gun to the ground.

Jay shrugs, "You snooze; you lose."

The three of them couldn't celebrate for too long. Rixton was still out there.

Jay breathes through his nose because if he breathes through his mouth, his safety mask would fog up. The sound of a tree snapping fills their ears and when their heads snap over into that direction, they see Ruzek dragging his paint gun away, feeling absolutely defeated over being taken out by Erin's little brother; he's never going to hear the end of it.

The three of them move quickly, running with their knees bent, their head downs as they divide and cover the space in search of Rixton. Once he's out, the game is over. It's been at least an hour and Jay was starting to get hungry, "Rixton," he shouts, "come out, come out wherever you are," he's cocky and he hears Justin snickering over his shoulder. A shot fires, the color of green splatting against the nearest tree to Severide, "He's close!" They take off running. And Rixton shoots a green paintball into the back of Justin's leg causing him to trip over his own two feet.

"Shit," Jay muttered, stooping low and aiming the paint gun, "Er's going to kill me." He aims high and shoots off his last remaining paintballs, smiling to himself when two of them land in the center of Rixton's chest, the force and power of them forcing him to fall back.

The game ends. The red team wins. Severide, Rixton, Justin and Jay make their way back to the main facility to meet up with the rest of their friends. The second Jay enters, Will's fist connects with his shoulder, "Hey, what was that for?"

"Where's the loyalty? You shot your own brother…multiple times!"

"…payback for pissing my girl off," Jay shoves his brother out of his way. He couldn't wait to get out of this gear and shower. He was sweaty and if this was only the start to his bachelor party, he really needed to freshen up.

"That was a while ago," Will defended, "she forgave me."

Jay handed back over his equipment before following the team into the locker room to retrieve their possessions. He slid his phone into his back pocket, his wallet into his front one and then held his leather jacket over his arm. He didn't want to put it on with how sweaty he is.

Justin walked towards him, rubbing the back of his leg. His guards are nearby, awaiting orders from their protégé, "I'm going to meet y'all back at Erin's spot after I go home and shower." Jay didn't know what was planned next, but apparently it's at the condo.

"I'll see you in an hour," Jay squeezes his shoulder but doesn't drop his hand, "You alright?" He eyes the back of his leg where Justin was rubbing it.

"Yeah, it's just going to bruise. No need to worry."

"Ha, tell your sister that," Jay remarks, dropping his hand, "if you can walk without a limp, maybe we won't even have to mention it to her."

"…yeah, you have yourself a deal," Justin struggles to straighten up, gliding across the floor and out of the door with his guards following closely behind.

Jay withdraws his phone from his pocket and checks his messages, spotting one from Erin and smiling to himself as he responds, _I'm about to head home, I miss you, -JH_

He doesn't expect her to respond, not right away because her last message was time stamped over an hour ago.

It turns out that after painting and drinking wine, they went back to her spot, took showers and dressed comfortably for a booked spa day. Now this is exactly what she needed. It was an all out, ultimate spa experience, from the aromatherapy, sauna, manicure and pedicure to the hair appointment, facial body scrub and the experience shower. The experience shower was everything; the way the refreshing warm rush of water washed and soothed her skin as her surroundings were enhanced with specialist lighting effects and peaceful acoustics provided her with an experience that couldn't be replicated at home. If this was all that was planned for the rest of her bachelorette party then she would be content. She's never felt so relaxed and calm in her life, and she still had a deep tissue massage left.

She's no longer in the white robe they gave her to venture through the spa in. Now she's nude, a thin sheet covering her backside from the waist down as she lies face down on the table. She's alone; her friends in other rooms receiving some type of spa treatment. There's a slight chill in the room, it doesn't bother her too much, but she knows if she waits any longer, she's going to put the robe back on. In the speakers above her head, there's calming music drifting out of it.

"Ms. Voight," she hears a deep voice call out her name as her masseur enters the room.

"You can call me Erin," she replies as she remains lying face down. She doesn't bother to lift her head and look over her shoulder to see the man's face, more so because she's bare and if she turns around, he'll see her cleavage.

"Hi Erin," he greets once more as he starts to adjust the sheet covering her lower half, "I'm Michael. I'll be doing your deep tissue massage unless you are uncomfortable and would prefer a woman," she thinks on it pretty quickly and shakes her head, "well then, let's start."

Erin figures he's a professional. She's not the only woman he's massaged and she won't be the last. She won't let something like his gender get in the way of what he could do for her body. He applies massage oil to his hands before he starts using broad strokes against her back to spread the oil out, "Any history of back or neck pain or injury?"

"No," she whispers. She hopes this massage isn't filled with talking. She wants to bask in the silence and maybe take a nap. And besides, she already answered health-related questions when she filled out the application at the start of the spa experience.

He gently runs his fingers over her skin, lightly gliding his hands to warm her up and relax her muscles, "Any muscle pain or tension?" He's applying light pressure and it feels so good; he's only just started and it's already the best thing that's ever happened to her body.

"Uh," she whispers before moaning out, "no."

Michael begins using the palms of his hands and body weight to start applying maximum pressure, pushing down harder than the light strokes he did before, "If you feel any pain during the massage, please let me know," he moves his hands along the muscles near her spine, running it up and down the length of her back, stretching from the base of her neck to inches above where the sheet covers her ass. Pressure is slowly applied in even strokes and it takes so much for her not to fall asleep, "Is it uh," she's talking despite her earlier desire for a quiet session, "is it normal for people to fall asleep during this?"

"It's more common than you would think." He begins using his fingertips to run his hands from the bottom of her back to the top of her shoulders. And Erin actually considers taking a nap. He moves to lay his forearm on her inner back, using his body weight to apply pressure. It's applied along the entirety of her back, gliding from upper to lower.

"That feels amazingggggg," she sighs, eyes fluttering opened and closed. She loses the battle and eventually takes a short nap, only opening her eyes when he finishes massaging her arms and hands.

"Erin," she hears him and it startles her awake. She lifts her head and looks back; too sleepy to care that he probably has a direct view of her cleavage. He's standing at the bottom of the table, fingers holding the end of the sheet, "I'm going to fold in the sheet so I can have access to your legs. If you feel uncomfortable with this, please do not hesitate to tell me. This is supposed to be a relaxing experience and I don't want to cause you any discomfort." She nods and silently lays her head back down, shutting her eyes as he starts to massage her legs.

As he starts at her feet, moving up to her ankle and then her calf, she starts to drift back off, her eyes fighting a battle against a soothing nap that lies within her grasp. She reopens her eyes when she feels his knuckles kneading into the muscles of her calf, working out the tightly formed muscles that must have come from spending majority of her days in high heels.

"Erin," he paused the massage until she lifts her head again, "I'm going to hold up the sheet to block you and when I do, I want you to turn around and lie on your back." She nods and silently follows directions, and at this point, if he sees any part of her naked form, she doesn't care. He's staring up at the ceiling and once she finishes, she clears her throat and he lies the sheet back down.

He begins lifting her legs, bending them to work out the muscles. And the move actually wakes her up, she's stretching muscles that she typically doesn't stretch unless she's rolling around in the bed with Jay. Her knees being bent, legs being pushed back and it only hurts because of the deep tissue massage she received only a few minutes prior. If she had her phone, she would text Jay, maybe to tell him about the painting that's drying in her living room, but maybe not the massage. She feels the masseur start to apply pressure to her thighs and that's when she knows, she'll definitely leave this portion of the massage out of her updates to Jay.

Halstead, he finds himself relaxing as he checks his phone for the fourth time. She still hadn't text him back and no one is willing to tell him what the girls have been up to for today. Rixton and Ruzek are manning the grill; Mouse is in charge of the music and the rest of them are lying around, enjoying the sunset and the breeze that only comes from sitting rooftop. A rooftop barbecue was apparently Severide's idea, and it was definitely a good one. He hasn't been up here too often, the memories of he and Erin in the pool a few feet away just as vivid as if they were formed yesterday and now that they're moving, he's going to miss this rooftop and all the memories it provided.

He doesn't know what's on the menu but whatever it is, it smells really good.

"Guys," Mouse shouts, accidentally dropping his phone onto the ground, he scrambles to pick it up but with just how excited he is, it slips through his fingers again, "guys! Guys!"

"Mouse, what is it?" He has everyone's attention but it's Rixton that verbally questions it.

"Our album," he says, struggling to maintain his delight, "it went platinum. And it's still number one on the charts almost six whole weeks after it was dropped. But, but the main thing, the biggest thing, it's…it's platinum, like not diamond, but platinum guys!"

And this was already one of the best days of his life, and he thought it couldn't get any better but it did. It did. His album went fucking platinum and the one person he wanted to tell, wasn't here.

Jay pulls out his phone just as the guys start taking the food off the grill. He pulls up Erin's name, calling her but after the fourth ring, he hangs up, choosing to shoot her a message, _babe guess what, -JH_

He doesn't wait for a response, instead, following up his last message with another, _My album went fucking platinum babyyyy, -JH_

He wants to celebrate with her, _We have to celebrate! Me, you, no clothes, bedroom, tonight once we get rid of these idiots we call friends, -JH_

His plate is made first, something about him being a husband-to-be, and because of that, he's served without even needing to get up. A few ribs, a few chicken skewers, corn on the cob, a burger stacked with lettuce, tomato, onion, cheese, ketchup and mustard between two buns and a scoop of baked beans. A cold beer sits at his feet.

As he tears into his full plate, he feels his phone eventually vibrate against his leg. Finally. It's only been a couple of hours since they said goodbye to each other but it felt like a lifetime. He pauses from eating, instead choosing to check the text message, _Are you serious? You're fucking kidding me right now, right?-EV_

He doesn't have a chance to respond back yet before another message comes through, _Jay, you have no idea how happy I am for you. Number one album in the country! Platinum status! That's my fucking husband! I'm so proud! We have to celebrate! Do you want me to ditch the girls because I will…just say the word, -EV_

He chuckles as another message arrives, _Or send the word…if you say it, I won't hear it, -EV_

The guys around him are all laughing. At what, he doesn't know. He's too absorbed in his phone to pay attention. Jay leans back, food forgotten, as he responds, _nah, stay with your friends, we can always celebrate later…when we're alone, -JH_

"You know," he feels Justin's hand squeezing his shoulder, "if I'd known you were this head over heels for my sister you would have had my approval a long time ago."

"Ha…ha," Jay says dryly. Everyone's laughing; he's not.

"Dude can barely go a few hours without talking to her," Rixton quips and Jay finds that even less funny. He elbows him in the side before shooting off a quick message, _I love you and I'll see you later, be safe, -JH_

He shoves his cell phone back into his pocket. The sun was starting to set and Jay didn't know if this rooftop barbecue was the last thing on their list for today, but based on the amount of energy buzzing from his friends, he doubted it.

"You didn't have to end your sexting on our account," Ruzek jokes and if Jay was closer to him, he would have gotten hit much, much harder than he did Rixton.

Justin simply shook his head, face twisted in disgust, "Alright, no talk of sexting or sex as it relates to my sister and future brother-in-law, please."

"…yeah, wouldn't want Justin and Severide getting uncomfortable," Ruzek chuckled.

"I'm not getting uncomfortable," Kelly had been quiet because he'd been eating; now he's swallowed and is willing to chime in, "Erin talks about her sex life all the time."

Justin groans even though it piques the curiosity of everyone else. He didn't want to hear this so he chose in this moment to walk over to Nico, who is currently sat at the feet of his owner waiting for food to fall from his plate, "Here you go boy," Justin calls out as the dog runs over, "here you go," and if he slips the dog some table food, it remains a secret between the guys.

"When you say she talks about our sex life…" it's technically an unfinished question but Kelly picks up on where Jay is taking it.

"She doesn't go into too many details and I'm not really going to repeat what she confided in me on. I'm her best friend; she tells me things even though I honestly don't need to know."

Jay hums, digging into his pocket to withdraw his cell. He shoots off another text message, _you tell Severide about our sex life, -JH_

She responds pretty quickly; her phone must be in her hand, _I have to tell someone. I don't have many friends. It's either him or my brother, -EV_

 _Forget I brought it up, -JH_

She sends back a kissy face emoji which elicits a laugh from him. It earns him a slap on the shoulder and a tight squeeze, "You should see the look on your face every time she texts you."

"I don't have a look," Jay grumbles at his brother's acknowledgement, "It's my face. You should be used to it at this point."

"It's a new look, one that came once a certain someone came into your life."

"Why are we gossiping like school children?" Jay retorts, lifting a rib and biting the meat off the bone with a little more force than necessary, "we're supposed to be drinking, talking about sports, eating and then whatever else is left on your plan for today."

"…clubbing," Rixton fills in and no one should actually be surprised.

Red lipstick coated her lips, matching the red, form-fitting, and cross-over, off the shoulder, cut out midi dress that stops right above her knees. There's a beach wave to her hairstyle with half of her hair lying down wavy against her back and the other half up in a loose top knot bun. The black heels on her feet make her petite form seem just a tad bit taller, pushing her height to be around the size of her friends. Her right arm is looped with Kim's and her left with Natalie's while Hallie looped her arm on the other side of Burgess. Her guards stand closely behind them; their presence and physical physique intimidating those who attempt to approach.

The diamond on Erin's engagement ring shines in the dim lighting of the nightclub as they maneuver through the crowd. It's noticeable. With how large and bright it beams on her finger, it draws in the attention of all those she passes. She sees people whispering, most likely pointing out the presence of the president's daughter while others are a little bolder, either waving or taking pictures of her with the flash on.

It's her bachelorette party night so she's in a good mood, choosing to ignore them as she's led towards the VIP section. If they get a good picture of her, well then, good for them. If not, oh well, she has every intention of drinking to the point where she doesn't even notice who is taking a photo of her. She gave Trudy, her dad's campaign manager, a heads up on the way to the club because there's a possibility, a huge one at that, that there will be an unflattering photo posted of her tonight. Maybe of her taking a shot? Maybe dancing on top of the bar? Maybe falling over drunk? She's 27; she's not a prude. She's living her life.

Music is blaring obnoxiously loud. The speakers are booming and if the music increases anymore in volume then she's pretty sure it's going to blow, -either the stereo or her eardrums. She holds onto the railing as she climbs the stairs, swaying her hips to the beat of the music along the way, "I'll get us some drinks," she hears Natalie shout over the music.

"Make sure whatever you get is strong!" Kim shouts back. By the time they leave tonight, they're probably going to lose their voices. Erin steps onto the balcony overlooking the dance floor, sliding into the booth as she patiently waits for her first shot of courage –whatever liquor Natalie decides to bring back.

It doesn't take long for their drinks to arrive; Natalie is leading a guy over holding a tray of shot glasses. If Erin doesn't end up in the hospital for alcohol poisoning then she'll consider her night a success. The tray is placed down and Natalie tips the man, "Don't forget, keep them coming."

"I don't think Jay will forgive us if something happens to his wife-to-be," Kim asserted, reaching for a shot glass and despite her words, she places about three of them in front of Erin.

"…as long as we have one sober person in the group, we'll be fine," Natalie retorts. However, the sober person in the group hasn't been chosen. Everyone is holding a shot glass and based on the amount that Natalie has ordered, each of them are planning to have more than the one glass.

Hallie tilts her head to the side, "…and who would that be? I didn't fly all this way to not get drunk with the first fucking daughter of the country!" And if everyone was shocked before by her use of a curse word, they're shocked even more now.

"Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?" Erin smirks. Her friends are taking too long to pick a sober buddy, and since this is her bachelorette party, she knows it won't be her. She throws her head back and takes the shot, -straight. And it immediately warms her body.

"No," Hallie remarks, "but I kiss Mouse with it." She follows Erin's lead and takes her shot.

It doesn't take long for them to sort this out when Erin's guards jump into the conversation to remind them of their actual purpose in accompanying the women to the club. Erin's on her third shot of the night when the waiter brings over a tray of some type of bright blue alcoholic drink called the Blue Lagoon, "this looks beautiful," Erin gushed, grabbing a straw from the waiter's apron before opening it and dropping it into her glass. She taps a sip and it's definitely stronger than it looks. She'll have to nurse it.

"Alright, we didn't come out just to drink," Burgess announced, waving for Hallie to let her out of the booth. She obliged, sliding over until she takes a shaky step out.

Natalie grabs for Erin's arm, the one that isn't holding her drink and ushers her out of the booth, "Oh, we have something for you to wear," she waves her hands for Sorensen to approach and he extends a sash that reads bride-to-be, "let's just put this on you," she adjusts it on Erin's body before waving for Roman, "and this too," it's a tiara.

"I am not wearing that!" Erin takes a large step back, bumping into Atwater when she does.

"Yes you are," Hallie responds, grabbing Erin's shoulder as Kim grabs the opposite one.

Erin glances over her shoulder, "Guys, a little help here?!" None of them move and if Erin wasn't already a little tipsy, she would be a little hurt that they didn't take her side. Silently, she obliges, allowing them to place the bachelorette tiara on top of her head.

Kim grabs Erin's wrist and starts to yank her in the direction of the main dance floor. It's hard for her to keep up without spilling her drink. She takes another sip, causing her steps to become even more off balance. Erin sips the last remnants of her drink before placing it on the closest empty table, "Don't let me fall, Kim."

"I won't. I promise."

"Don't let me break my ass."

"I won't. I promise," Kim repeats.

"Don't let me embarrass myself."

Burgess shakes her head, "Now that's a promise I can't keep. Sorry, Erin."

The four of them step onto the dance floor, blending in with the crowd of twenty to thirty year olds. This night was everything. The strobe lights flashed all around them. The men and women dancing were in their element, sweating and swaying as the beat of the music increased. Bodies touched as the flood of people crowded the dance floor moved to the rhythm of the soundtrack swinging their arms, pounding their fists, shaking their hips, bobbing their heads or doing some type of mixture of all four. Some are on beat and some are off but everyone's having a good time. Erin too, she's not jumping because that feels impossible in these heels but she is shaking her hips side to side, rolling her shoulders to the smooth beat and raising her arm into the air.

"Excuse me," she whispers when her eyes close and she accidentally bumps into someone.

"It's alright." And that voice sounds familiar. She opens her eyes and turns around, eyes going wide when she immediately recognizes the muscles in that back. Erin moves closer, body growing hot the more she moved and when she gets close enough, she wraps her arms around him from behind. His body goes stiff almost immediately.

"Hey," his voice sounds annoyed as he elbows her away, "what the hell do you-" he turns around and cuts himself off. His face transforms from one of irritated to content as he changes his question, "What are you doing here?"

"What are you doing here?" She answers his question with a question.

"…bachelor party."

She nods, "bachelorette party."

"Did they plan this?" Jay looks around the crowd for one of his friends.

"Here Erin," Kim practically shoves another drink in her hand before looking up at Jay, "hey, what are you doing here? Did you follow us or something?"

"I guess that answers your question," Erin giggles tipsily into her glass.

Jay nods to acknowledge that he's heard her despite the loud music currently crushing his ear drum, "Yeah, it does," he takes Erin's glass from her and helps himself to a sip, "we just got here not too long ago. I came onto the dance floor with Rixton," now that Jay is reminded of his friend, he takes a glance around, "who seems to have disappeared. He probably found a few ladies to keep him company." He gives Erin back her glass but she shakes her head, choosing to let him drink the rest. He does in a matter of seconds.

"Where's my husband?" Kim is still here. Neither of them noticed.

"He went to the bar to order a round of shots." And that was all Burgess needed to hear before she went off in search of him. It seems Will had found Natalie and Hallie was swaying slowly to the fast music with Mouse. Everyone was linked up –minus Justin, Mason and Severide, "How did Justin get along with all of you today? Was he cool?"

"Yeah, I enjoyed spending time with your brother."

"How did you celebrate today?" Erin tilts her head.

"How did you celebrate today?" And since he answered her question with a question, it raises her suspicion. She would take her drink back but he finished it.

"Did someone get hurt?"

Jay shakes his head, "Define hurt."

" _Jay_ ," Erin growls because she told him not to do anything dangerous, "you promised! Who got hurt? And how hurt are we talking here?"

She's starting to worry and he knows that he made a promise to Justin but Erin comes first and he'd do anything to calm her racing heart, "Hey, hey," he practically shoves his empty glass into someone's hands, ignoring their complaints because he's focused on his girl; he grabs her upper arms, "we went paintballing and we had a cookout on the roof of the condo. And now we're here. Besides a few bruised body parts, most of them have bruised egos. Your brother is fine. I am too. So is Severide."

Erin nods. She needs a drink.

"And since I told you what I did…it's your turn."

She keeps it vague, "We went to a paint and sip and the spa. That's it." The way she's avoiding eye contact with him earns a raised brow, "What are you not saying?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about…"

"Can I see the painting? Are we going to hang it up in our new spot?"

If she had something to drink, she would probably spit it out.

"I doubt you'd want to hang it up."

"I'm sure it doesn't look horrible," he laughs because he thinks it's because of her skill level.

"It's not…" She starts to grab at the lower fabric of his shirt, tugging it towards her, "it was a uh bachelorette day special," she wants to kiss him but she doesn't want to ruin her make up; he just looks so good, "so it was a bunch of us ladies with a nice gentleman."

He's starting to pick up on what she's saying –or not saying, "Erin… did you paint a nude man?"

Erin nods, but he's not upset. He simply laughs and that earns a slap to his chest. The dance floor grows even more crowded and when someone bumps into her, Jay shoots them a glare.

"Did you realize how lucky you were in," he glances down to the front of his pants, "in this department?" Why is she not surprised he would take it there? She swats at his chest again, moving out of his embrace, "You're an idiot," she laughs.

"And what about this spa experience?" He's not hung up on the paint and sip. It's harmless. It's no point in getting upset even though if he had a say, he would prefer Erin to not have seen another man naked.

"It was definitely needed," she rolled her shoulders; "they offer a couple's massage. We should do that one day."

"I can give you a massage," he's flirting. His voice is sultry and low.

"…probably not as good as Michael," she shivered at the thought of the massage, "he works magic with his hands, I swear."

The two of them stood, conversing in the center of the dance floor. Neither of them are even dancing. When another person accidentally bumps into her, Jay makes the decision for the both of them and takes her hand to guide her off the floor. He clears them a path off the dance floor and towards the bar to meet up with their friends, "So Michael, huh? How'd he do it?"

"…maybe I'll show you when we get home in celebration of your album going platinum, congrats again Jay, I'm so proud of you," she winks, moving against his body as he sweeps his arm around her waist, "and the massage, oh, it was deep tissue and it requires no clothing."

"You had no clothes on?" Now this peaks his interest,

"Just a sheet," she pats his cheek before leaning forward to smear a red lipstick kiss against his skin, "but baby, there's no need to get jealous."

"Oh, I'm not jealous," he laughs, hand reaching down to intertwine with hers, "his ring isn't the one you're wearing."


	55. Political Arena

As the days tiptoed into the beginning of September, the rush of activities, events and responsibilities started to pile on high. They had two months until their big day, until their wedding, the day that is scheduled for them to recite their vows and become man and wife. It was so much left to do, yet her mother has them scheduled for an interview and photoshoot to cover a magazine that'll be released the week of their wedding. It was short notice, typically this type of stuff happened at least a few months, or at most a year before the release of the magazine but with their busy schedule, this was the only time they had for it to be fit in.

So much to do today: photoshoot, interview, last minute paperwork to seal the deal on their new house, confirming the paint and flooring for their new place and then bowling with friends. It was a lot to be done in one day. And as Erin and Jay are angled, positioned and posed for the next couple of photos, she finds her mind focusing on what needs to be done instead of the present. It's their third wardrobe change; the two of them color coordinating each time.

The first change had the both of them in casual jeans –hers ripped- and t-shirts –his blue and hers with her alma mater printed on the front. The two of them remained barefoot. Her home had been transformed into a studio. As early as six in the morning, the knocks came and the second Jay opened the door, people rushed in to prep them and her condo for photos. Lights were added in the rooms where pictures will be captured, hair and makeup set up in their hallway bathroom and wardrobe was laid out in one of their guest bedrooms. The series of photos taken while casually dressed incorporated candid shots; ones of them acting as they normally did. Each photo looking more and more natural the more pictures captured and the longer they did this. A picture of them casually cuddled on the couch, her curled into his body, head against his shoulder as his hand ran up and down her back had to be the photographer's favorite picture. A photo of them chatting in the kitchen, her looking into the opened refrigerator while he leaned against the nearest counter had to be the staff's favorite. It looked so natural. A picture of Erin holding up a strawberry and Jay biting into it while she barks out a laugh had to be their favorite. And each of them would make the article. They've yet to take the front cover picture.

That's the second wardrobe change. She's in a lace, white, sleeveless, skater dress with a flower crown resting on top of her wavy hair and metallic heels strapped around her feet. He's in a pair of khaki pants, a Rolex watch and a tucked in button-up white shirt with the sleeves rolled up. This was Erin's favorite look of them all and when he finished getting dressed and revealed it to her; she couldn't help but ask the man in charge; "Is there a way he can keep that? I'll pay."

The room laughs so Jay chimes in, "She's being serious." The team agreed to let him keep it.

The selection of photos in the second outfit consisted of slow kisses, nips at each other's mouth, light laughter that sometimes felt forced, gazes into each other's eyes and rooftop photos, holding each other's hands and hugging. The front page shot was taken; his back is to the camera and his head is angled to glance down at her. It's only the side profile of his face that is captured as her body faces his, her hands wrapped around his arm and her face pressed against his shoulder as she smiles at the camera while he smiles down at her. It's innocent, precious and sweet and she knows they still need to sit down for the interview that'll be printed on pages 22 to 25 in the magazine but the longer she does this, the more she starts to like it.

"Do you think it's possible to get final prints of each photo?"

This time everyone knows she's serious so no one laughs as the man in charge responds, "I'm sure I can make that happen."

The third and last wardrobe change has her in a navy blue pants suit and black heels. Her blazer is buttoned up, obscuring portions of the navy blue shirt underneath. Jay is in his own navy blue suit but instead of a navy blue buttoned-up shirt to match hers, he's wearing a white shirt and a navy blue tie. The suit jacket is on but he doesn't bother fastening one button. The photographer thinks it would be a good idea for her to wear her prescription glasses and the hair stylist styles her hair in a straight high ponytail with a small, puffy top. Jay's hair has been slicked back and it's definitely a bad boy look, sparking visions of their earlier times together, "Why haven't you ever worn your hair like this? I feel like I missed out on an actual bad boy experience."

"…oh you got a partial bad boy experience," he kisses her cheek, "you didn't want the whole thing. You wouldn't be able to handle it."

"How sure are you about that?"

Jay moves in closer, tone speaking below a whisper, "I'm pretty sure about it. You got the partial experience, the perks without the drawbacks."

"…and what were said perks?"

"First off, the sex," he could feel her breath quicken, "my authentic confidence, my passion, my ability to leave you wanting more, the fact that I know what I want and go after what I want, my protectiveness, my backbone," he drew in a long breath before continuing, "I'm spontaneous, adventurous and a bit rough around the edges but that just makes me unpredictable."

"..and what about the drawbacks that I apparently avoided?"

"Oh," he chuckles dryly, wrapping both arms around her slender waist, "you definitely dodged a bullet on that front, a bullet that other women before you weren't so lucky to dodge."

"…like what?"

"My disrespect of authority figures," he starts off by saying, "my constant trouble with the law."

"You got arrested while we were together."

"Oh no Erin," he shakes his head, smirking, "before that, before you, it was a regular thing."

"…go on."

He does, "I walked around not trying to fit, not wanting or needing approval from anyone."

"Isn't that a good thing?"

"I thought it was," he whispered, and in the back of his mind he's kind of surprised that no one has interrupted to get them back to the photoshoot, "but then I met you and I wanted your approval and I wanted your family's approval and it gave me something to strive for. You fit perfectly into my world and I really wanted to fit into yours."

In his embrace, she smiles. She desperately wants to kiss him but she's been given strict instructions after her last wardrobe change to keep her lipstick in mind.

"You do fit in," she reassured, reaching her hand up to cup his cheek, "you fit in perfectly."

"I never apologized even when I was in the wrong," he started doing that after he met her, "I was never loyal, falling into bed with different women, never seeing the same woman more than once. You didn't get that side. I never wanted to give you that side."

Screw what the makeup artist said, she cups his face and leans forward to gently press her lips against his. Yeah, she definitely got the perks while he personally worked on the drawbacks because he saw her as worth it, their relationship was worth it.

"Alright you two lovebirds," the photographer clapped his hands to get their attention, "let's take these last couple of photos and then we'll get out of your way."

Taking the last couple of photos didn't go by as quickly as Jay and Erin had initially thought it would. The first picture taken in their professional outfit has them standing back to back, height difference very much noticeable, their arms crossed and smiling at the camera. The second shows her sitting on the floor with her work laptop on her lap, it's reminiscent of the way she regularly conducts business in her office. The laptop is off but for the purpose of the picture, she pretends to be typing on it. Jay is sitting across from her, strumming the guitar positioned in his arms. It's their relationship. It's a photo that documents the work aspect of their bond. The third photo has her on his back and his arms gripping her thighs to assist in holding her up. And the last photo has her in his opened arms, height coming just under his chin. He's holding her, hugging her, and it was the perfect way to end the photoshoot.

The interview followed, and it was not done in those same business clothes. The two of them changed into something more comfortable, into the outfit they intend to go bowling in. She was ready for this to be over, it's September, she wanted to enjoy the activities they have planned leading up to their big day. Today, it was bowling. Later this week they're officially going to start moving into their house and attending the first presidential debate that's scheduled the week after. In a pair of black leggings and a gray slouchy, dolman t-shirt, she curled into the corner of the couch, barefoot. Jay sat across from her, cushioned into the opposite corner in a pair of jeans and a loose t-shirt. The interviewer, apparently the cousin of the photographer, was seated in the arm chair across from where they're sitting. Apparently at some point during the photoshoot, people were setting up equipment to record and then later broadcast their interview.

"Wait, I'm confused," Erin rose to her bare feet, "I thought this was for an article. I thought it was going to be an interview that needs to be read not watched."

"It's going to be both," the crew is hooking a lav mic up to the collar of the interviewer's blouse.

The two of them are hooked up next even though Erin still has questions, "I should probably change. I'm not dressed for an on-air interview."

"Just put on some shoes, other than that you look fine, we want you to be in your element."

Now her palms are sweaty as she goes into her bedroom, being extra careful not to disturb the lav microphone connected to her. She was supposed to only put on shoes but she decided to change her clothes, stripping herself of the shirt and leggings before sliding into a teal, sleeveless ponte-knit sheath dress and strapping black heels onto her feet. When she exits the room, she waves for hair and makeup to approach, "I need a touch up." None of them bother to argue, she looks fine, but instead, they do as she requested, "Jay, change your clothes. I laid something out for you on the bed." He didn't argue either; he simply stood up and disappeared into the bedroom. And next time he's seen, he's in black slacks, a teal button-up shirt with a black tie.

The lav microphones are reconnected to them. Erin leaves on the jewelry she's wearing. The lighting is adjusted, the curtains are drawn open and the two of them sit with poise. This was a bit nerve-wracking, more so because neither of them was prepared for a televised interview. There must have been some type of miscommunication when scheduling the photoshoot and interview, but her mother was the main source of contact between the two so it had to be on her end. Jay's hand covers Erin's bouncing knee; she struggles to keep still, "Just be yourself."

That's easier said than done. The only topic that was off limits during the interview was Jay's arrest. Anything else, they were willing to entertain either in full detail or vaguely.

As the interview kicks off, she greets the two of them as if they haven't been talking for the last half an hour. She starts with simple compliments, getting on their good sides and easing them up.

"I'm going to be the one to ask what America wants to know," she's cheerful, practically radiating joy because she managed to get the scoop, "we've had very few interviews with the two of you at the same time. I'm honored to be the one to do this one. Thank you."

"…no, thank you," Erin is just being polite.

"We kind of know a few details about how the two of you met, but now that we have the both of you here, I'm sure we would love to hear all about it?"

"He bumped into me," Erin nudged his arm and Jay smiled proudly at the memory, "he made me spill my drink all over me. He was in such a rush that he wasn't paying attention."

"Where were you going?"

He's now leaning back on the couch, his arm wrapped around the back of the couch, "I was running late and I needed a coffee." He didn't look remorseful.

"He was actually shocked that I knew who he was." To this day, Erin still finds that funny.

"…really?" The interviewer asked, just as surprised.

"Yeah, apparently he thought I've been living under a rock."

They laugh at his expense and he doesn't know how the production team will edit the interview but if they crop this portion out, he wouldn't be upset about it at all. Since the two of them didn't seem bothered by the topic of conversation, he highly doubts it'll be edited out. The conversation eventually leads to talk of the two of them messaging on social media, him commenting under her photo and then when she attended his concert.

"…and where were you sitting?"

"A private skybox," he answers and this intrigues the interviewer, but before she's able to ask clarifying questions, he continues, "no one really knew she was there."

"You managed to hide the first daughter in a building with more than 15,000 people in it, now that's impressive," the interviewer complimented.

The interview turned into a discussion of their dates, -the roadside diner and Great Falls Park just to name a few. He mentioned his tattoo dedicated to her; he didn't show it, as it was for her eyes only. The interview passed on for a little less than two hours; the staff will have a lot of footage to sort through to plug into the one hour special that will air at the end of next month. The magazine will be published the week of their wedding and while it'll basically supply the same information as the video interview, it will add just a bit more information that had to be edited out. The interviewer leans forward, index cards with questions written on them stacked in her hands as her elbows rest against her knees, "What does the tattoo say?"

Erin and Jay glance at each other, but she's the one who answers, "It's my initials."

"I bet your fans didn't peg you for a guy who would get a lady's name or in this case initials tatted on you in permanent ink."

Jay shrugs, unbothered by her comment, "My fans also didn't peg me as the guy to settle down. As I grow and mature, they're going to get to know me, the new me, the real me."

The interview continued to progress onwards, focusing on how they've successfully overcome a long distance relationship before turning towards how they manage to balance their professional and personal lives especially as two very well-known and public figures. The answers flowed casually because they were truthful, they came from the gut, it was pure honesty. It was the chance to allow the world to get a glimpse into their personal lives, into the window that peers into the hearts of the number one couple in the country. The interviewer switches index cards and the next question draws both of her eyebrows up her forehead, "The rest of these questions were submitted by your fans on social media using the hashtag Halstead wedding."

"Uh oh," Jay joked earning a soft giggle from the interviewer.

"Alyssa Turner writes, I love you so much Jay, I'm one of your biggest fans. My question is how was it meeting Erin's family? And the same for Erin? How did it go meeting the band?"

Erin met Jay's gaze and in a silent conversation, the two communicated who would speak first. She wanted him to go, so he went, "It probably went as well as you all expected," he chuckles because he doesn't want to speak ill of anyone so he gives a vague response, "let's just say it kicked off on the wrong foot but it's all good now."

"When you say kicked off on the road foot…" the interviewer is prying for more information.

"I'm leaving it at that," he throws his hands into the air, "take it as you will."

She looked disappointed but she moved on, "…and you Erin?"

"Pretty much the same, vice versa, especially with Rixton."

Now the interviewer is sitting up straight because she hopes to get more details than Jay offered, "Kenny Rixton, the keyboard player in Jay's band."

"…that's the one. We just clashed a bit, bumped heads but now we're all family."

She was disappointed once again because she sensed that Erin wasn't going to speak further about it. It was private information, the inner workings of their dysfunctional family wasn't something neither of them wanted to blast only for opinionated fans to shed their thoughts about it on social media. Erin nodded towards the index cards, hinting for her to ask the next question.

The interviewer kept a smile on her face to remain professional as she switched cards, "The next question is from Holden Sanders, he wants to know if there are any future albums in the works? And he wants you to talk about your muse…"

"Two questions in one," Erin smirked, nudging for Jay to answer. This is his area of expertise.

"Um," her fiancé sits up straight and clasps his hands together as his arms rest against his thighs, "I just released an album so you guys should learn the lyrics to those songs first before hinting for me to drop another," he chuckles dryly; he's joking but he's also serious, "but I don't intend for that to be the last album of District 21. As most of you know I'm getting married in a few weeks and I'm going to honest, writing has not crossed my mind. I'm just enjoying my engagement and after our honeymoon, I'm going to sit back and let whatever happens happen, but my first year of marriage I'm going to be focusing on my wife not rushing out an album."

Erin reaches over to rest her hand over his clasped ones, "…that was a two part question."

"Oh, yeah," he nods and smirks because it slipped his mind, "the muse, you already know you're looking at her. She gives me motivation to write. I'll leave it at that."

"Hopefully that answered your question Holden," the interviewer says as she changes the index card, laying the ones she already read face down on the coffee table in front of them, "Next one is from Sarah Nelson, she's a freshman that attends your alma mater, Erin, she wanted me to let you know that," Erin grins at the camera and shoots it a wink, "she says that Erin's song is her favorite song on the new album. Jay, she wants to know if any future music that you put out will be similar to that one or will you stick to the hard rock?"

"It'll be a bit of both. My music reflects what I'm going through at the time that I write it. Each album takes you on a journey, my journey of progress. Erin isn't going anywhere so I'm pretty positive that I can guarantee you Sarah," he turns to face the camera, "that there will be more music that the band will put out similar to Erin's song."

That index card joins the ones read prior to it, "Next question is from Erin Holloway."

"Nice name," Erin added before nodding for the interviewer to continue reading the question.

"She wants to know about Nico. She says she's not picky for what kind of details, she'll take whatever info about him that you're willing to give."

Jay nods for his girl to take this question, "He's perfect. He's trained. He's very energetic and protective. Fortunately he's never chewed up any of my shoes which makes me love him more."

"…that was a part of his training," Jay chimes in.

"My dad adores him," Erin adds.

The interviewer chuckles, "…so you have a built in babysitter?"

"Not really, my mom is pretty eh when it comes to dogs."

The interview continues with questions being posed about skydiving for Jay's birthday, upcoming plans and events leading to the wedding and any details about their wedding but Erin was keeping silent on that last one. She wasn't offering any information in regards to that.

"Before I move on to the final fan questions, I have a question. Since neither of you are offering much information about the big day, will it be broadcasted? Will it be recorded so people like me can actually watch in her pajamas and pretend that I'm there?" She chuckles at her own question.

"It won't be on television," Erin rolled her eyes at the dramatics of even possibly entertaining that if someone presented the idea to her, "but I'm pretty sure people will be at the White House gate on the south lawn watching and I won't send secret service to send them away."

"So if you want to see me take this woman off the market for good, we'll see you there."

"…but after you vote," Erin shouts, "Go vote first! I want to see voter stickers!"

"An interview that turned into a public service announcement," the interviewer jokes as she holds up the remaining index cards, "if you want to do the honors and grab one to answer."

Erin reaches for one in the middle, "Johnathon Berry," she reads his name, "is a fan of me and wouldn't mind if I ran for public office. Hate to break it to you Johnathon but I don't think I'm built to be a politician but you never know…as of right now, it's a definite no," Erin flips the card to see a second question posed by the same person, "oh," Erin reads the question silently to herself before diverting her gaze to Jay; he meets her eyes, "he wants to know about the possibility of children in our future?"

Jay laughs, "Johnathon's nosey. How about you wait and see, buddy?" He reaches for the next index card, choosing the one towards the right, "This is from Tina Garcia, she's from Scottsdale, Arizona," he looks at the camera briefly to add, "I've been there once. It's a nice place," he glances in Erin's direction, "we should go there one day," when she nods, he looks back down at the index card to read the question, "says she's my biggest fan and she loves my music. Thanks Tina, you definitely have impeccable taste."

"Oh gosh, I'm never going to hear the end of that."

Both the interviewer and Jay laugh before he reads the rest of her question, "I've followed your relationship on social media ever since it was announced publicly. I admire it especially the way you're protective of her and defend her on social media. How do you decide who to respond to? And how does Erin feel about it?"

"Oh, that's easy to answer," he tosses the card onto the table with the others and looks up into the lens of the camera to answer; this is so informal, "I can't respond to every ignorant comment. I only respond to the ones that she sees. And Erin, she doesn't want me to respond. She feels it's pointless to argue with anonymous people but it's easier said than done. I don't like people talking about my girl. I respond to quite a few positive comments but it's impossible to respond to every single one. As for the negative ones, I respond to those that I see or am told about," he looks to his girl and whispers, "Next question."

Erin could sense him getting riled up. It was always the case when it came to defending her and being reminded of how he typically has to defend her. She's quick to grab that last index card and reading the name aloud, "Derek Gordon wants to know about the proposal."

"That's a good question to end the interview on," the interviewer chimes in, collecting the index cards into one pile and stacking them up, "so tell us the story."

Erin leans back on the couch and looks at her man, "…maybe you should lead the conversation babe, I mean, you know more of the behind the scenes than I do."

And he did. He detailed the proposal, his internal battle, his quest for the perfect ring and the perfect timing before relinquishing the conversation to her so she can discuss how she found the ring and the confrontation that ensued. The interviewer thought it was a sweet story, heard of by no one and it ended with this beautiful moment where Erin pecked him on the lips and whispered against his mouth just how much she loved him. Not long after that the interview wrapped up with parting words from all three of them and when the camera was cut off and the crew started packing up their equipment, Jay and Erin raced to their bedroom to change into something more comfortable for the next activity of the night.

On their way to bowling they make a brief stop at the real estate office to sign paperwork all detailing their ownership of their new house. Once one line was signed, the paper was swiped and switched with another. And document after document was scanned and copied, and the office kept the original while they were handed the duplicate. It became official when they were handed two keys, -one to the bottom lock and one to the top.

They were home owners. All in one day, they've accomplished so much and now that they're on their way to the bowling alley, Erin could finally sit back and relax.

"Now that we have the keys and the deed to the house, I'll call the renovators so they can start early tomorrow morning in painting the walls, laying down the carpet and replacing the tiles and wooden floors." Everything was set for the new house; they just needed the stamp of approval which they received moments ago. It was earlier in the week they hired the team who will renovate the house and it was a day ago they chose the colors, patterns and flooring for their new home. Now it was official and with the promise that they'll be done by next week, around the time of the debate, Jay and Erin could finally relax and enjoy spending time with their friends.

-x-

It has become customary for the nominees in the presidential election to engage in debates. It's a night of high ratings where the two candidates answer questions to sway undecided voters. Erin has gone to the last presidential debate, almost four years ago, in support of her father. And now she's back again, hand intertwined with her fiancé as they are led to the reserved seats saved for the family members of the candidates. They were the last two in the family to arrive because today doubled with the day they had to move into their new house. They hired movers to make the process go much faster and with a little over an hour until the start of the debate, Erin and Jay made it.

"I was just about to call you," Camille whispered just as her daughter took the seat next to her, "the moderators had just walked into the room. I just spoke with them."

"Is everything okay? How's dad?" Erin is leaning back in her seat. The auditorium was full of people, and she could hear them whispering amongst themselves.

Camille waves off the worried tone in her daughter's voice, "Your dad's fine. He's used to all of this. The moderators just came to say hi. They wanted me to tell you that too."

Erin leans forward to tap her brother's knee, "Jus," he was seated on the other side of her mother, "I thought you said you were going to come help us move in."

"I thought you said you just needed my help to finish packing up your condo."

She rolled her eyes, "I finished packing earlier this week. I've been staying at the White House because my condo was packed up. You knew this."

"…miscommunication," he writes it off and shrugs his shoulders.

Erin sits back in her seat and takes in her surroundings. It's two family sections, one for each family, hers and the Stillwells. Her brother is sitting in the farthest seat, her mother next to him and Erin next to her mother. They needed to sit beside each other for propriety, because apparently, according to Platt, her dad's campaign manager, things like this matter. Jay sits on the opposite side of her, followed by two empty seats and then Olinsky's family. Erin leans forward to get their attention before waving, "Hey," she greets, standing up, "It feels like forever since I've seen you guys," she hugs Meredith and then she hugs Al. She's pretty sure the cameras are on her since they have the tendency to scan the audience before focusing on a member of the family.

She retakes her seat and focuses back on the two empty chairs beside Jay, "Where are they?"

"We're here," Kim announces apologetically, "sorry we're kind of late," she excuses herself down the row before flopping down next to Jay. Mouse sits next to her.

"I was beginning to think you two forgot."

Mouse scoffs, "We would never forget. I had a countdown on my phone for this event. I've been looking forward to this ever since we were gifted the tickets."

"Sweetie," she feels her mother's hand settle against her knee, "it's almost October," she reminds but Erin is well aware of the date, she's been well aware of it ever since they chose a date for their wedding, "and this isn't really the place but I figured now is as good a time as any to go over the finer details. I'll be spending the next week making sure everything is booked and ready for your big day. How is everything on the entertainment front?"

Erin looks over to her fiancé, "…this is his area. He's in charge of that."

"…in charge of what," he leans forward to meet Camille's gaze. He wasn't paying attention to their conversation; he was too busy taking in his surroundings.

"Mom wants to know what you have planned for entertainment at the reception."

"I hired a DJ," he answered.

"What kind of DJ?" Camille leaned forward, the two of them leaning towards each other, in front of Erin, "Did he come highly recommended? Did you give his name to secret service?"

"Yes and yes to your last questions," Jay answered, "and it's a she not a he. And she's a mobile DJ, she brings the equipment herself. The day of our wedding, Dawson is going to take her to the White House to set up her equipment beforehand."

Camille appears to be content with his answers. She leans back and releases a loud sigh before keeping her body faced forward and turning her head to resume her questioning, "Are you giving out gifts to the guests?"

"…yeah, the band's album."

Her mother nearly chokes, "Erin, that's a bit tacky. You're giving out your husband's band's album to the guests at your wedding. I don't like the idea."

"It's a good thing that it's not up to you," she pats her mother's knee in reassurance. She purposely didn't tell her mother about this idea because she knew she wouldn't approve. Why does she have to give them gifts anyway? They're not the ones getting married.

"Have you spoken to Damien and Helen about the wedding cake?"

"Yes."

"Has the marriage certificate arrived?"

"Yes."

"Is-"

"Mom," Erin interrupts with an exasperated laugh, "everything is good to go. It's all set. The only thing that's left to do is to actually get married."

"You need to move into that house of yours first."

"Everything is there. All we need to do is unpack. Boxes from Jay's penthouse in Chicago arrived today too. I think we're going to spend the next few weeks getting the house together."

"What about your honeymoon?"

Erin turns her body to glance at her mother, "What about it?"

"Are you packed for that too?"

"It's September. We have time," she laughs in response.

The first debate always feels the most intense because you have both candidates on the floor, asking questions thrown at them from the moderators. As the debate starts, the conversation around the auditorium begins to quiet down. The president and the former senator of Indiana grace the stage once their names and introductions are announced, each of them wave at the crowd before meeting in the middle to shake hands. Her father says something, and no one can hear it but Edwin Stillwell, and apparently whatever her dad says, it sparks a laugh from his opponent.

"Since when was dad funny," Justin retorts from his seat and that earns a laugh from Erin.

Both candidates approached their separate podiums, adjusted the microphones that are attached and waited for the first question, "The economy has steadily grown under your leadership Mr. President, the American people want to know, what plans do you have to ensure it continues to grow?" Her dad was prepared for this answer. He had a team of people to ensure that. The same question, only a few words changed, was then given to Stillwell to answer.

As her father moves around his podium, a smile radiates across her face. She loves seeing him in his element and this was definitely it, "Look at how he owns the stage," Burgess shouted in her direction as the loud applause masked her words, "If I can have a shred of his confidence, I would be set for life. If he didn't already have my vote, he would have it now."

Mouse sucked his teeth in mock disappointment, "You're supposed to preach about voting based on policy not presentation."

"He has both," Kim retorted.

"I was first drawn to him once I knew his policy relating to social justice issues. That's what drew me to him, not how much swagger he has in his steps."

Erin shivers, "I never thought I'd live to see the day that my father's name is used in the same sentence as the word swagger." Her mother laughs, not so secretly eavesdropping on the conversation. She has no shame though even as Erin shoots her a glance.

"Look at that," Mouse nodded towards Stillwell as he grabbed his microphone and walked around the podium, "he has a cool walk too. Are you going to change your mind and decide to vote for him?"

Now Kim rolls her eyes, "I don't simply vote for someone based on their cool factor, but that's always a bonus. I look at policy. I look at their voting history. I do my research. His relatability is just a bonus reason why I'm voting for him."

"You should have started with that."

"Shush," Kim whispers, swatting Mouse's arm until he moved it, "they're talking!"

"I have to agree with your friend," Camille leans over to whisper in her daughter's ear, "your father does have both. He's absolutely amazing when he speaks with such confidence." She drops the subject after that and focuses on her husband as Erin focuses on her mom.

The way her mother smiles at her father, after so many years of marriage, had her admiring the love that her parents have for each other. Camille sits proudly, in the family booth, near the front of the auditorium. It's the first debate out of three and she intends on attending them all. She's a supportive wife and if her husband needs her, she's always there. She has one leg crossed over the other, her phone is laid face-down on her lap and she's staring at the stage, watching her husband listen intently to the question the moderator had just asked. It never stops, it never fades, it's always present and Erin hopes the same thing could be said for her years later after she's married for some time.

When the debate is over, neither Jay nor Erin are in any rush to leave the auditorium. Their new home still needed to be unpacked and they didn't have the energy to do anything about it tonight.

"I'll see the two of you later," Camille leans forward to kiss her daughter's cheek and then turns her head slightly to kiss Jay's cheek, "I'm going to go backstage and rescue your father. I've been to enough of these types of events to know that someone has him locked into a conversation that he doesn't want to take part in."

Erin nods, not thinking twice of her mother's quick excuse to leave. She simply leans back in her chair and waits for the crowd to clear. It's no point in racing to the car because it's going to take forever to leave. With the amount of cars parked in the lot, their vehicle would be a part of a long number of cars all trying to leave at once. It'll be madness. So, she sits kind of comfortably, body uncomfortably resting on the side with her back against the arm rest and her legs draped over the opposite arm rest so her feet can rest in her fiancé's lap, "I'm hungry," she whispered, leaning forward to reach up and brush back the strands of hair that had fallen across Jay's face, "and since we currently have no food in the house, what did you want to do about dinner?"

Jay popped off both of her heels, "…maybe we can order from the Thai spot down the street?"

"I'm picky when it comes to certain spots," she practically whines, throwing her head back, "I love the Thai spot near where we used to live and the one by my job."

"…then I'm sure you'll love this one too," Jay bent forward to press a quick kiss to her forehead.

She took a deep breath in response. Her eyes scanning their surroundings and at some point Kim and Mouse had left, her brother too, and none of them even said goodbye. She'll see them again for the second debate in a few days so it wasn't a big deal, but you know, out of common courtesy it would have been nice to know they were leaving.

It was an hour later when they both rose from their seats. The lights in the auditorium a few seconds away from being automatically cut off on the time they were scheduled to be cut off. She has her heels back on her feet, and with a lot of complaint, she walked to the car that her guys pulled up to the entrance of the building. It was traffic, but when you live or visit a major city, that much is expected. It doesn't make the commute any easier though.

"Are you sure you don't want to pick up food on our way home?"

Erin met Jay' eyes as she massaged the bridge of her nose, "It was your idea to order delivery."

"I know," he shrugs, "but I figured since we're out now we can always stop somewhere."

"…the next time I walk in these shoes babe, I want to be walking in the house. Unless you want to switch shoes, let's stick to our first plan."

Jay nodded his head, a small smile lighting his face, "…our first plan sounds perfect."

By the time Jay unlocked the door to their new home, their sense of smell was assaulted by the aroma of a homemade meal. Erin stepped inside, standing in the foyer and looking around confusedly, "I don't understand," she whispers and she doesn't suspect there's an intruder because who would break into a house, cut on many of the lights and start cooking.

"Perfect timing," Camille announces, stepping out of the kitchen followed by her husband, son and the band, each of them –minus Camille- holding a beer in their hand, "I figured with the new move that none of you have time to cook so I thought I'd make you a home cooked meal."

Erin opens her mouth. No words come out. She closes it.

"I know Er," Justin said, crossing the room to hand both of them a beer, "I'm just as surprised as you are about this. Mom doesn't just whip out the apron for any and every occasion." Erin slowly nods because she agrees; the last time her mother cooked it was last year for her dad's birthday dinner and it was a cake, not a whole meal.

"I made a nice spread that'll guarantee you have leftovers so the two of you don't have to order out the whole week. I made roast turkey, mashed potatoes and gravy and string beans. I also made chocolate brownies for dessert."

The smell brought back memories of her childhood, of when Camille cooked their meals because they didn't have a chef. Erin could remember when her mom would be up early in the morning to prepare food for Thanksgiving and Erin would watch football with her dad, shouting obscenities at the other team, –she would more so think them because she couldn't afford to get in trouble. She recalled when she was a little girl, standing on her dad's feet as he danced around in the kitchen to the music her mother would play in the background as she cooked. She remembered sitting on a kitchen stool near the counter to assist her mother in preparing Christmas dinner. This aroma not only brought back memories, it brought back the mood that those good times also brought out in them.

"You okay?" Jay asked, turning to Erin when he noticed that she's been too quiet, "I can kick them out if you want…I honestly don't know how they even got in here."

Erin blinked away the montage of memories, "I'm fine, this just reminded me of old times, good times," she reassures and she happily accepts the beer from her brother, "Mom, when did you have time to do this? How did you do this?"

They walked further into their home, taking their shoes off near the door before walking barefoot through their empty living room. The furniture should arrive any day now. It seems they only have their kitchen, dining room and half of their bedroom unpacked and ready to use.

"I had majority of it prepped before the debate. I just needed to put it in the oven to heat it up," Camille leads everyone back into the kitchen, she reaches for an oven mitt to check on the food, "I had one of my secret service guys drop the dishes off and put them in your fridge until I could come here and finish it up," she rotates the pan the turkey sits in, "I also prepped a few meals for you two," she admits, leading them over to the fridge before opening it up to show them the aluminum pans that are covered and waiting to be heated up, "that's roasted chicken, call me when you're ready to put it in the oven and I'll tell you the directions, this over here," she points to a covered bowl, "is mixed vegetables, that's macaroni and cheese. I figured that's a sturdy meal to hold you guys over until everything is unpacked and you're all the way moved in."

"Camille I don't know what to say…" Jay whispered because he's honestly speechless.

Erin approaches her, "thanks mom, this really helps."

"I'm glad sweetheart," she has her arms wrapped around her daughter and she's squeezing pretty tightly, "but I have to admit, I was a bit nervous. I didn't know how you would react."

"I told her you wouldn't mind," Voight chimes in. He's reaching for a second beer.

"I don't mind," Erin reassures. It smells too good in her home for her to be upset about this.

"How did you get in though?" Jay questions.

"I uh," Dawson speaks up, raising his hand, "I left my spare key under the doormat for them, and now I need that back." He briefly disappears in search of which of Camille's guards had his spare.

That answered it. And the two of them left it at that. Neither of them were upset, this was kind of nice, to have everyone in the same room, about to eat dinner in their new home. It felt like extended family coming together a few weeks before their wedding.

Slowly, over the course of the night, Camille starts pulling dishes out one by one and if the house smelt good before, it smells even better now. Everyone was seated around the table that must have been made up by her mother at some point during the night, dishes were being passed around and casual conversation filled the room, "This looks absolutely amazing," Erin compliments. And no one in the room could disagree. The food was delicious, their loved ones that surrounded them were incredible and the warmth, the laughter and the peace that swarmed them was amazing. This is the epitome of family. It's a bunch of dysfunction intertwined with love and acceptance. Everyone that sits around the table are polar opposites, you have the leader of the free world, the president himself sitting at the same table and having a meal with a rock band, a group of men that are sex symbols around the world.

"…penny for your thoughts," Jay nudges his fiancée's side and she immediately blinks out of her reverie, ending the pathway that her thought process was leading her down.

"I was just thinking about us, all of us," and that earns everyone's attention, "and maybe this is something we should try to do more often," Erin announces to the table, "with all of our busy schedules; we should try to do this maybe once a month? Here, at my house."

"And who is going to cook because sis, no offense, but your cooking-"

"Hey," Jay jumps in to defend his girl; he throws his arm around her shoulders and kisses her forehead, "she's been learning. You got to give her credit for that."

"Enough from you Justin," Camille swats her son's thigh. And that takes her back to being a kid when she and Justin would argue and her parents would reprimand and shout for them to quiet down and behave. It was moments like that when it happened Erin didn't think she'd look back on it from a new point-of-view, she would have never thought she'd look at those memories with a fondness that has her yearning for the good old days.

"…to once a month," Voight calls out, ending her train of thought as he raises his beer bottle into the air; everyone around the dining room table followed his actions and repeated his words, "to once a month, let's try to actually stick to it," their glasses and bottles clang together before their vow became official with a sip from their cups.

-x-

In the month of October, the only events scheduled in their agenda are the second and third presidential debates, -the last two in a series of three. It's the day of the second one and while Jay didn't know what to do during the first, he was more ready during the second. As they walked in he moved more briskly through the rows in the direction of their reserved seats. Camille is already seated. Justin's chair remains empty; he won't be able to attend today due to a prior engagement. He didn't say what it was but Erin already knew, she knows her brother too well. He has a date with a special lady.

As Erin and Jay move down the aisle, Burgess and Mouse follow behind. She has her seat in view and Jay's hand rests against her lower back and she's on a quest to reach it, only stopping when someone stands up, extends their hand and walks towards her, blocking her pathway. She keeps a smile on her face. Erin didn't need for any wrong move or gesture to paint her out to be the bad guy and leave a stain on her father's campaign. They were so close to the election and at this point most people knew who they were voting for and those that didn't, looked for little reasons to help them decide.

"Hi Erin," the woman is an everyday citizen; she's not a member of Congress, but the beginning of the debate is always so lackadaisical and chill that people find the time and opportunity to approach whomever whenever unless it was a member of the first family which is why she's a bit confused as to how this woman was even able to approach her in the first place, "I'm Nina, an independent voter in Illinois. I have been a constituent of your father for many years, way back when he was a senator," Erin smiles and nods at the woman's words; she doesn't know what to do with her hands so she simply wipes down her navy blue dress, "I just wanted to let you know that your father is doing an amazing job. And I came to say congratulations."

Erin could feel Jay's hand running up and down her back as both of them replied in unison, "Thank you, that really means a lot," she gives the woman a shoulder squeeze before continuing on her way down the aisle.

This debate kicked off much similar to the first, the only difference is the crowd. It's a new group of people in the audience all anxiously waiting to get answers to the most important questions that'll be posed tonight. Camille has her elbow resting against the back of her daughter's chair and she keeps whispering to her as if Erin could hear her over the talking of everyone else, "I said I'm surprised your friends attended the second debate," she repeated.

"Jay and I gave them tickets to all three debates for Christmas."

It was a commercial break which meant they had a few minutes to stretch their legs and catch up with the people they're sitting beside. Her mother takes full advantage of that and since her brother didn't attend, she had Camille's full, undivided attention, "What were the two of you doing today? I called you twice."

"We were unpacking the new house," Erin answered, leaning back into her mother's arm as it remained resting against the back of her seat, "and we started packing for our honeymoon. It was a pretty busy day. And now that it's October, it's only supposed to get busier."

"Have you started looking up houses to view in Chicago?"

Erin shrugs, not because she doesn't want to answer but because she didn't know how to answer.

"Not really…" she admits, hand running through her hair; she really didn't want to talk about this, at least not right now, "we um, we're going to live in our house on a permanent basis, at least for the yearlong break me and Jay are planning."

"Does this yearlong break include babies?"

Erin shoots her mother a look, "Please, lay off the pressure. I don't know what the yearlong break will entail, and if it includes babies or not, you'll have to wait and find out."

The commercial break had come to an end and silence filled the auditorium once more as the moderators welcomed viewers back to the second presidential debate. As her eyes watch her father, she feels the overwhelming surge of pride. She was proud of him. He's earned this. He deserves to be here, "I hope my future daughter looks at me the way you look at your father." It wasn't a commercial break yet Jay risked talking and being overheard.

"I'm pretty sure she will," she replied. And apparently she's taking the risk too.

He pulls his eyes from the stage in order to look at her, "…you really think so?"

"I know so Jay," her hand intertwines with his and she raises it to press a kiss against his knuckles, "and if you don't believe me, you'll find out soon enough."

He gulps. His mouth goes dry and before he's able to question her, he feels Mouse elbow him in the side before shushing him. He had to wait until it was another commercial break. And it was the longest wait of his life. He was counting down the seconds, the minutes and once the moderator announced the next commercial break, he's immediately facing her, eyes wide and mouth agape, "Are you pregnant?"

Everyone in the row –her mother, Burgess and Mouse- all turn their heads in her direction. She's as red as a tomato as she covers her face with both of her opened palms, "Damn Jay," she groans but each of them notice that she has yet to answer the question, "can you talk any lower?"

"Erin, are you pregnant?" He doesn't even acknowledge her reprimand or the looks they're getting because he needs an answer.

"Relax Jay," she reassures her fiancé after dropping her hands to her lap, "relax everyone," she directs her gaze to her mother and then to her friends, "I'm not pregnant."

"You can't do that to a man," he blows out.

And the second that neither her mother nor her friends are paying attention anymore, she inches towards him, voice lowered, "If I were pregnant, I would not be announcing the news to you at a presidential debate. It'll be much more private than that."

"I just assumed it was the heat of the moment. You could have phrased that a little better, I mean, we all thought it was a pregnancy announcement."

Erin rolls her eyes as the second commercial break wraps up, "…a couple of months," she catches his eye and she smiles, "and then we'll start trying."

Jay squeezed her hand. And the remainder of the second debate went by without much conversation, only the occasional round of idle chitchat that basically involved Erin filling Kim and Mouse in on the behind the scenes aspects of the debate. He's heard many times about politics and what goes on in the background; it's been the subject of countless pillow talk sessions so he's relieved to find that Mouse and Burgess are as interested in this topic as he pretended to be, -the things you do for the people you love.

"…yeah and one of the moderators, I can't remember which one, but one of them, my dad absolutely hates," she whispers, making sure that her voice is low enough so no one behind her can hear, "I had to teach him to school his facial expressions because they kept getting him in hot water."

"Your dad just seems so chill though," Mouse whispered in response, "like nothing can bother him. I don't think I've seen him get really upset." Jay scoffs. And Erin smacks his chest.

"My dad has his moments just like the rest of us."

The second debate ends and the auditorium clears out moments later. It only refills the next week when it's the third presidential debate. Sitting in their same seats, it becomes a sudden realization to her that this is probably the last presidential debate she'll attend in person. When the thought crosses her mind, she appreciates every second of the night, watching her father own the stage and look voters in the eye when they stand to ask their question. She shoots him a thumbs up when his eyes divert in her direction and it earns her a grateful smile. He's doing amazing. No one in their right mind would vote for his opponent.

"Dad is definitely in his element," Erin whispers to her mother and brother, -he attended the final debate. Neither of them could argue with that statement. He was made for politics.

"Yeah, it's kind of hot."

"Mom," Justin grumbles, shutting his eyes and masking his face, "that's gross."

Camille simply chuckles at the discomfort on her children's face. But instead of apologizing for her words, she simply shrugs and whispers "Get over it."

"It's easier said than done," Justin shivers in disgust.

"…at least you've never walked in on a family member having sex," Camille retorted and Erin suddenly sinks into her seat, her face red in embarrassment and she really wished the conversation would change.

"Can we talk about something else please?"

Justin mouthed a silent thank you to his sister as their father graces the stage for the next segment of the third and final debate of this year's election. At this point most, if not all, voters knew who they were going to vote for on the ballots. This third and final debate was more so a formality and keeping up with tradition. The questions all relate to inflation, paid leave, income inequality, eminent domain, oil drilling, fracking and global warming.

Erin shifts in her seat. She's pretty uncomfortable and she would rather walk around to stretch her legs but she knows she's unable to do that until the next commercial break. She feels Jay's arm around her shoulders but his gaze is drawn towards the stage, "Are you alright," he questions her even though his focus remains on her father as he answers a question.

"…yeah, my butt is just numb."

"I'll give you a massage when we get home," he promises and for the first time since the third debate started, he glances her way, "our new home."

They're almost all unpacked, their furniture –some new and some old- arrived early this morning with a team to assemble it while she and Jay focused on unpacking boxes. They had just a few more boxes to go before everything is finished.

"Our home has a nice ring to it," she whispers as the crowd claps. She starts clapping too even though she wasn't paying enough attention to know the cause of it.

"It does," he agrees. He withdraws his cell phone from his pocket and if the looks Camille, Kim and Erin shoot his way were anything to go by, it appears he must have committed one of the worst sins on the planet. He puts his phone away and mumbles, "Sorry."

Justin is snickering. He finds it amusing. Camille swats the back of her son's head after ensuring no one was paying attention. And Erin, she was moving closer to him to whisper, "The cameras constantly roam the audience and settle on us. It's not a good look if you're bored and playing games on your cell phone because trust and believe if we can get away with that then me and Justin would have done it a long time ago." He nods. He reminds himself, he's not just marrying her; he's marrying her whole family.

"What are we going to do about dinner?" It's such a casual topic of conversation, it's one that has become the norm ever since they started living together, "The leftovers your mom brought, I ate the rest of it this morning while you ran to the office."

"…maybe we can pick up Thai food on our way home?"

"That sounds really good; I might get the pad Thai."

Erin shuts her eyes and slowly nods her head up and down as she pictures it, "That sounds really good. I might get that too, oh, and the tom yum soup."

"Are you two seriously discussing food while the current president is talking about his plans to combat climate change?" Burgess leaned forward, gaze shifting between the two of them as she waited for an answer. It sounds horrible the way she phrased it, making it look as if they were uninterested but Erin –and by association Jay- had sat with him as his team completed a mock debate, she knew how he was going to answer, he answered it many times before the actual debate. But, neither of them said that. They appeared perfectly scolded as they drew their attention back towards the stage, "my bad," Jay whispered. Erin didn't respond at all.

And just as the debates had been conducted before the third, it ended much of the same. The only difference is the final pitch between each candidate, summarizing why the American people should vote for them. The moderators took to the stage and wished everyone a good night with a reminder that in just a week is election night and if you're voting by absentee ballot to cast those as soon as possible depending on your state and when their deadlines are for submission.

"Can we leave yet?" Jay whispers in her direction.

"…just a sec," she rose to her feet when her father approached. He stood in front of her mother, pecked her lips and hugged her before moving to his son, clasping his shoulder, squeezing it tight and then finally turning to her. His arms wrap around her and even with the railing positioned in between them, it didn't stop the hug from feeling genuine, "Thanks for coming baby girl."

"…any time dad and you know that. You were amazing."

He pulls his head back to look at her, "You really think so?"

"I know so. Have I ever lied to you?" It's when his brow quirks that has her stumbling over her next words, "don't…don't answer that!"

His head turns to Halstead to find the young man with his hand resting against Erin's lower back, "…and what did you think Halstead? Am I guaranteed your vote?"

"You already had it, sir. Erin and I did early voting."

Hank extends his hand towards his future son-in-law and when Jay shakes it, Erin still finds it hard to believe that the two of them are getting along. Her father accepts him. And she throws her arms around her dad's shoulders when she's overwhelmed with emotion, forcing him to release Jay's hand in order to grab her waist to ensure she didn't fall over the railing, "Thanks again dad for accepting this, for giving him a chance."

"I know it took some time," his hand is rubbing up and down her back soothingly, "but I came around because I finally saw the reason why your mother and your brother thought he was good for you. I'm sorry it took so long." If he didn't whisper his apology into her ear, she wouldn't have thought he said it. She steps back, hand wrapped around his shoulders, "Love you dad."

"I love you too kid."

She cleared her throat, swallowed heavily before turning to face Jay, "Alright babe, now we can go get food." He smiles and takes her hand, nodding towards her father as they excused themselves out of the reserved seating area.

It's hard to believe the last presidential debate has come and gone which only means that less than a week from now is Election Day which also doubles as their wedding day. It's definitely a stressful time not only in her personal life but in the lives of her loved ones. It's the final week of October, it's their last chance to get everything in order because next week, the 6th of November, she's taking his last name, they're getting married and they're going to Belize for their honeymoon. A week long, much needed vacation before returning and going into their yearlong break from work, -not obligations because if her dad wins then she'll most likely continue to give speeches, attend conferences and events and other public engagements.

But, that's a thought for another day. The current thoughts and worries that have plagued her mind all involve her wedding day, -and occasionally the election, but that's because it's the same day. It's like right now; her mind will not let her think about anything past it. She's not worried, not really, she knows he'll show up and as long as they're both there then the day should be fine.

It's going to be great. It's going to go swimmingly.

It's going to be perfect. It's all going to be fine.

It's going to be everything they've imagined it to be over the last few months.

It's going to be the day that Erin legally takes his last name.

It's going to be the day that everyone will know the both of them are off the market.

She's committing herself to him and he to her. It's a lifetime commitment because neither of them will even entertain the idea of it being something else. As they hold hands and exit the building, it suddenly dawns on her that this could be her father's last term and on the night of her wedding, possibly the early hours of the next day, they'll find out the fate of the election. Hopefully America chooses wisely.


	56. Here Comes the Bride

A beautiful morning, a picturesque day that creates the perfect ambiance for a wedding, for their wedding. Golden rays of sunshine beamed down upon the historic home, the White House, and Erin hasn't seen the south lawn yet, but she knows with the way her mother is frantically running around, holding two phones against her ears while a pen is lodged above her ear, that it'll be perfect, it'll look perfect. She could hear the faint chirping of birds from the bedroom she spent the night in. It was November –fall time- yet the weather outside seems to have held it's warmth from the summer. It's like Mother Nature knew to behave today because Erin and Jay will be joined as one, every aspect of their lives will be merged together in front of their family, friends and the public that decides to show up at the south lawn gate.

Erin stepped out of the bathroom in her white bathrobe, after showering, shaving and brushing her teeth, to approach the large windows. She spent the night at her parents' home, and it has felt like forever since she's done that, but it brought back sweet memories. Her mother cooked dinner last night, her dad opened up a bottle of wine, and the three of them talked and ate in front of the fireplace. She overindulged last night in food, and she was grateful to have done that because with the way her stomach is turning, she's too nervous to eat anything now. She moves closer to the window and draws the curtains open, "It's a beautiful day, isn't it?" She hears her brother whisper as he steps into the room.

At any moment she expects for a hair stylist and makeup artist to step into the room, but it seems they're running a little behind schedule, -or maybe she's just early. She could barely sleep, not with Jay spending the night in their home while she was here in the White House. She could sense her brother approach her and when he stops to stand beside her, peering out of the window, she slowly turns her head to face him, "It is," she replies before looking back out the window, "and you clean up really nice." He nudges her side and smirks.

"I do enjoy compliments from my big sister."

Before she's able to respond, she hears her phone buzzing against the end table. It's still connected to the charger and after squeezing her brother's elbow, she leaves his side to check her device. It's Jay, - _good morning beautiful, today is the day._

 _You're right; it's the day that my father gets re-elected. I'm speaking it into existence, -EV_

She could only imagine the look on his face while he read her response, _While that's a very important day for America, I was referring to something else, -JH_

She's more serious this time in her response, _I know and I can't wait. I love you so much, -EV_

"You guys are sickening," Justin scoffs. He's still standing in the same spot near the window, but he's looking at her, grinning.

"…you're just jealous," Erin retorted. Her eyes remain drawn to her phone and when his message comes in, her heart flutters at his response, _I love you too baby. I'll see you soon, -JH_

"What is there to be jealous of?" She could hear the teasing tone underlying his speech, "I mean… you're going to be with the same man for the rest of your life. And me, oh, I get to spread my wings and dip into the pool of endless women."

Erin rolls her head, "You're a pig. Who raised you?" Justin laughs.

"…but on a serious note Er, today is going to be a really good day. It's nice out," his hand flourishes towards the window, "you're getting married and the people are going out to vote. It's going to be a good day and with the way mom is running around like her hair is on fire, I know your wedding is going to be everything you've dreamed of, everything that you've ever wanted."

By the time Justin kisses her cheek and walks out of the room, her hair stylist is walking in, rolling in a cart with everything from hairspray to hairpins. Behind her is her mother's assistant, carrying in a chair from the dining room, "Thanks," Erin whispers as the chair is placed down in the middle of the room. She walks over to sit in it as the hairstylist plugs up the flat irons. As she sits patiently, she feels the nerves coming back. Justin had a way of distracting her every time she's nervous and now that he's gone, the nerves were on a whirlwind. She has her phone in her lap and she's staring at Jay's last message to her before deciding to initiate another conversation, _I don't know why I'm nervous, -EV_

Immediately she saw the three dots on the side of the screen, letting her know that he was typing back, _You're not going to leave me at the altar, are you, -JH_

And before she's able to respond, he sends a follow-up message, _I don't think my heart can handle a runaway bride, -JH_

She doesn't know if he's joking or serious, more so, because you can't always gather context and mood through text message. But, just in case he is serious, she immediately replies, _No, I'll never run away, -EV_

 _Whew, -JH_

 _But I'm still nervous and I don't know why, -EV_

"Ouch," Erin claims, dropping her phone and yanking her head away from the stylist, "What the fuck did you just do?" She's holding her ear, rubbing the top of it.

"Sorry, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! It slipped; I underestimated how close I was…"

"Is this your first day?" Erin knows that it's the nerves that are making her react this way, but she can't help it; the girl practically burned her ear off. Quickly, she turns to face her when she doesn't respond right away and silently she shakes her head, "No."

"Interesting…" Erin whispers, rising to her feet and gripping the ties on her robe, pulling them, forcing the robe to tighten, "…if I'd known that a professional such as yourself was prone to burning people, I would have went the cheaper route and hired an amateur."

"I really am sorry. It won't happen again."

"…well I would hope so because you're getting paid to do my hair, _not_ to burn me and my hair."

She sits back down after picking up her cell phone. She sees a message from Jay; he had responded to her last one, _maybe its performance anxiety, -JH_

 _I give speeches all the time in front of crowds, -EV_

… _that's you as a professional, this is personal. Maybe you're nervous that something will go wrong; it's a big day for us, it's only natural that you want everything to be perfect, -JH_

He's probably right. He most likely is right. It's probably why she found herself so obsessed with the weather this morning. Her wedding was outside and she had paid attention to the forecast all week and now that today is the day, she just needs it all to go swimmingly.

Erin groaned in her seat, _I'm turning into a bridezilla, Jay, -EV_

 _I'm sure you're not, -JH_

 _I snapped at the hair stylist because she accidentally burned my ear, -EV_

 _Sounds like a reasonable reaction to me, -JH_

Sitting her phone back down on her lap, she shut her eyes, sighed and whispered out, "I apologize for snapping at you. I'm just a bit stressed and that's not an excuse but, yeah…"

"…thank you," the hairstylist responds while curling Erin's hair, "and I meant it when I apologized too. I just…I got too excited because this is a once in a lifetime opportunity to do your hair and it's for your wedding of all things and I guess my excitement made me slip up and that's the last thing I wanted to do, it's the last impression I wanted to give you of me."

Erin smiled as her shoulders momentarily relaxed, "Consider all things forgiven…" she could hear the sound of relief whistle out of her stylist, "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name. I swear to you, my mother did teach me manners."

"It's Mackenzie."

"It's really nice to meet you Mackenzie. I'm Erin."

"…I know."

As Erin sits patiently while the finishing touches are applied to her hair, a nail stylist comes into the room, wheeling in a cart with the professional logo of his company printed on the side. He smiles at the two of them, "Hello, I'm Wyatt and I must say it's an honor to have the privilege to do your nails today," he's overly excited and Erin really does appreciate it but she doesn't get the hype, it's just her, she's just Erin Voight.

"It's nice to meet you Wyatt." Immediately he gets down to business, wanting to be extra professional since he's in her presence. He hands Erin a menu of colors for her to select from, "Boysenberry," she points out one of the four colors in her wedding theme.

Silently the man opens up the third drawer of his cart and pulls out clear polish and the color Erin had chosen. He grabs the folded stool connected to the side of his cart and sets it down beside her before grabbing the small foot tub. He carries it into the bathroom in the bedroom before balancing it on his walk out, "Okay, just put your feet in here," he guides her feet into the small tub and turns it on, allowing the water to warm up and the bubbles to massage her, "I'm going to start with your nails," he says as he pours some type of foot scrub into the water.

The nerves are still inside of her, but the more she's pampered, the more they start to dwindle down. She's starting to feel relaxed as she watches the man paint her nails; he's so focused, his attention directed towards her nails to ensure he didn't paint outside of the lines. She hears the hairspray bottle and she shuts her eyes to ensure the spray didn't get into them, "All done." The hair stylist grabs a mirror from her cart and extends it in front of Erin for her to take a look. With the hand that was finished being painted, she holds the mirror and angles it around to look at her hairstyle from all angles, "It's beautiful."

"It's absolutely gorgeous," the familiar sound of her mother's voice rings out. She stands at the door with the makeup artist beside her, wheeling a cart of her own.

The nail artist and the hair stylist both stand tall, facing her mother because her presence demands absolute respect. She nods to both of them and they resume their earlier actions. Her hands finished, he now starts to massage and scrub her feet before drying them, clipping her toes and beginning the paint job. Camille walks further into the room, hands behind her back, "I brought you something and I decided to head up here with Mia to give it to you before she does your makeup." Revealing what was behind her back in such a dramatic fashion, Erin noticed the bagel covered in cream cheese and it looked really good but she just doesn't know if her tummy would agree with it right now. She's too nervous.

"Mom, I can't eat anything right now. I'm going to wait until the reception."

"…at least take a nibble."

Erin shakes her head, "I can't. I'm too nervous to eat."

"What about a crumb?"

"Mommmmmm," Erin groaned, tossing her head back and rolling her eyes. The hair stylist was putting her equipment away as the makeup artist started to unpack hers.

"Fine, fine," Camille replied, taking a bite out of the bagel, "I'll just eat it." She sits at the edge of the bed and watches as Wyatt finishes up her toes, "…looks really pretty."

"An honor ma'am," Wyatt replies, capping the nail polish. He rose to his feet and looked at his work from a distance. Hands are on his hips and head nodding as he seemed to approve of the job he's done.

Erin didn't mind getting her hair and nails done because she still had freedom but she absolutely hated getting her makeup done. She couldn't move her head. She couldn't talk much. She was forced to sit still, be still, and listen as her mother updated her, "People have already showed up to the gate with their cameras ready. All of them look so eager to watch the wedding even if they're behind a black, metal gate. Some of them even brought lawn chairs to sit in."

"We should," she pauses when the makeup artist shoots her a look, "we should order them pizza," the makeup artist, Mia, looks at her again, a bit irritated, "Sorry."

"Are you serious?"

Erin couldn't talk so she simply nodded.

"Hmm, that's a good idea," she pulls out her cell phone, "I'm going to text my assistant to get on that. Maybe order a bunch of water bottles too?" Erin nods again. She's told to look up at the ceiling and she follows that instruction without complaint. By the time the pizza arrives, Erin is still wrapped in her bathrobe but she's out of the makeup chair, she moves towards the full length mirror to take a look at her makeover, "Wow, you made me look beautiful."

"…your natural beauty did that all on its own."

She finds herself blushing at the compliment but the light shades and neutral colors of makeup mask it from the prying eyes of her mother. Camille scrutinizes her every inch, eyes scanning her from head to toe in order to ensure that nothing was out of place. She watches her mother push a strand of hair behind her ear before approaching her from behind. Her hands come to wrap around her shoulders as they gaze into the mirror, staring at their reflection, "You, my darling daughter, look absolutely, undeniably beautiful. Great job, Mia."

"I do not take that compliment lightly," Mia bashfully replied as she slowly puts her makeup away, "and it helped that I didn't have to do much. I meant it when I said natural beauty."

"…yeah, she gets that from me," Voight interrupts, startling everyone in the room, "you look beautiful, Erin."

"Thanks dad."

Camille stepped towards her husband, "Hank, what's going on? I wasn't planning to see you until closer to the wedding."

"Uh, I just came to say that Severide, Jay and the band are here."

"Did you put them in the other wing? We don't need the two of them running into each other."

"Yes," Hank smirks, "I did as I was told. Also, there's like 15 boxes of pizza out there and five cases of water. Does someone want to tell me what's going on?"

Erin jumps and then rushes over to the bathroom, stepping inside before reappearing with slippers on her feet and the robe that she's been wearing all morning tied even tighter, "Is anything inappropriate showing?" Both of her parents shake their heads, "Perfect, okay mom, let's go…" And just as Erin was about to walk out of the door, she feels herself being pulled back. After looking at the offending hand, she tugs her arm away, offended.

"Sweetheart, where are you going?"

"…to serve pizza."

Camille shakes her head, the hair that was already styled bouncing around her shoulders, "Oh, no, have you forgotten? You're getting married in," she pauses because she doesn't know the time, so she cast a look in her husband's direction for him to fill in the blank.

"…less than an hour."

"That's right," Camille nods eagerly, "in less than an hour. I need you to get dressed. The guests will be taking their seats soon. The staff can handle the pizza."

"Mom, come on, it'll be quick. I won't serve, I just want to thank them."

A moment passes as Camille stares into her daughter's warm gaze before she gives in, nodding reluctantly. But, Erin doesn't venture out alone. She has her arms locked with her parents' before stepping out of the door and following behind the staff carrying napkins, the cases of water and the boxes of pizza. She walks through the double doors, the same doors that she'll walk through in less than an hour and almost immediately, she sees the swarm of people behind the south lawn gates. All the decorations, in her wedding theme colors of frost, blush, white and boysenberry are still being set up with Camille's assistant being the coordinator in charge of directing the staff on where everything should go. Her assistant is running around, back and forth, shouting orders and directing any and everyone who appears to be doing something wrong or not doing anything at all. Everyone is running around as if they have a lot more to do but most of it looks complete, -it all looks beautiful. She's actually surprised her mother isn't out here micromanaging everyone.

"What's going through your mind? You look deep in thought," her dad, always the perceptive one, points out in a whisper. Her mother isn't paying attention to them despite her close proximity; her arm is looped through Erin's and she doesn't even hear a word that's been said. She's too absorbed by the layout, decorations and preparation to even focus on the conversation between her husband and daughter.

"I'm nervous," Erin admits, steps slowing down as she looks over to meet her dad's eyes, "and it's not about marrying Jay, it's just a lot of people are here and what if I fall flat on my face."

"…you won't," he states matter of fact.

"How do you know that?"

"…because sweetheart," Voight has his arm looped through hers but his free hand is running up and down her forearm in comfort, "you won't be walking alone. I'll be right by your side when you're walking down the aisle and after you're married, Jay will be by your side when walking up it. At no point will you be alone." And that, whether her dad knows it or not, sounds like a metaphor for something, maybe life? Her life?

She leans her head to rest upon his shoulder as they continue to walk towards the gates, "thanks dad." He smiles and pecks her forehead. The flashing of a camera lets them know that their hired photographer had captured an off-guard photo.

"Are you two having a moment without me?" Camille asks, but not once does her focus break away from the setup of the wedding ceremony. She's determined to make this moment perfect.

"…never," Voight whispers, winking at his daughter after the obvious lie. Camille seems to let it slide, she's too distracted by the number of chairs in each row.

"…no, no," she exclaims, unlooping her arm from her daughter's arm, "six chairs in each row; it has to be an even number and make sure that the decorative chairs are at the end of the row." Her voice, her loud reprimand sparks the attention of everyone on the other side of the gate. And the moment they notice them, their attention is pulled away from their phones and they're wrapping their hands around the gate bars in order to bring their faces closer. Erin hears people shouting congratulations; she hears their well wishes and praises and all she can say is, "Thank you," she grins, approaching the gate but stopping far enough away that they cannot reach through and touch her, "it really means a lot that you all showed up. That's…wow, I'm just…surprised and grateful for you all."

"I have my voter sticker," one person shouted, leading the many people behind the gate to show their tickets. It's approaching the middle of the day and they found the time to not only vote but to come here, show their face and wish them well.

Erin reaches into the pocket of her robe and pulls out her cell phone, "I'm going to take a selfie," and upon hearing those words, everyone starts to bounce in excitement. She turns around, she holds up her phone and she tries to get as many people in the photo as possible before capturing the first photo of the day. A few of them are taking her picture as she speaks with as many people as she can; it's unrealistic of her to even attempt to speak to everyone. She has to get married soon. And as she talks to them, as she grants them the opportunity to have a selfie with her –them holding up the camera, the black bars of the gate in between them and her on the other side smiling from ear to ear- she notices in her peripheral, the boxes of pizza are being passed to the public in attendance on the other side of the gate. Her dad estimated 15 boxes of pizza, but based on how many she's seeing, there's definitely more than that.

"Mom," Erin calls out as the three of them start to make their way towards the house, "how much did you spend on pizza?"

"…you don't even want to know," Camille laughs. Voight doesn't find it funny. He actually does want to know how much his wife spent.

The second Erin steps back into the White House and walks up to her room, she sends the selfie she had just taken with the people outside to Jay. She hadn't wanted to send it to him while outside out of fear that he'll look out the window to see her.

 _You look absolutely amazing, -JH_

 _It's all for you, EV_ –she sends him a kissy face emoji.

 _I'm actually about to go pay them a visit, -JH_

… _you definitely should, I'm surprised that people actually showed up to watch our wedding through a gate, AND THEY BROUGHT THEIR VOTING STICKERS WITH THEM –EV_

 _I can practically feel your excitement through that text, -JH_

Jay, in a room at the opposite end of the White House, is pacing as he stares at his phone, watching those dots appear until her text is sent and arrives, _I'm definitely happy about that! What gave it away, -EV_

"Dude, you have to stop pacing," Severide rests his hand over Jay's shoulder. And no one knows why Kelly is even in the room, he should be with Erin, he's her man of honor.

"I can't. I just want everything to go perfect today, for Erin. She deserves that," he admits, and Severide has no reason to disagree, "How is everything? How are the decorations?" He turns to look at his brother, "How is the ballroom? Is it set up for the reception? Has the entertainment arrived? Did you tell the DJ the song to play for our first dance? Do you have the rings, Will?"

"Jay," Will exclaims, clamping his hands around his brother's shoulders, forcing him to face him, "We don't want you to worry about anything," the band all nods in agreement, -Severide nods too, "let us handle any and everything. That's what we're here for. Now do you still want to pop in on the people outside and thank them for coming," Jay nods, "okay cool, and while we do that Severide is going to pop in on your wife-to-be."

"…my wife-to-be," Jay whispers that last part. He smiles at that last part. He calms down after hearing that last part.

Severide leaves them be; he walks in the opposite direction of the pathway they're taking as they go outside to greet the visitors behind the gate. As many times as Kelly has been to the house, he still finds himself lost, eventually running into Justin who thankfully points him in the right direction. A quick jog gets him down the hallway, making a sharp left, jogging down the next hallway before knocking gently on the door to his right, "It's just me, Er." He cracks the door open and pokes his head in, "Is everyone decent?"

"Yes, come on in," Camille waves for him to enter. And the second he closes the door behind him and turns around, he sees her, he sees his best friend. He's somewhat speechless.

"Erin…you look," he cannot find the right word to describe her.

And she's bashful, since when was she bashful? She's rocking side to side, hands intertwined in front of her and her gaze is focused on the ugly patterned carpet, "How do I look, Kelly?"

"Amazing," he answers, "Beautiful," he supplies another adjective, "Gorgeous, stunning…"

She smiles, and that widespread grin radiates her entire face, "Thank you Sev…"

"…and I see you're wearing the jewelry your mom bought you," he points out, nodding towards the matching earrings, bracelet and necklace that she's wearing that her mother purchased when Erin was looking and trying on wedding dresses. She loves them. She keeps running her finger along the diamonds in the bracelet.

"Yeah," she holds up the bracelet to show him even though he's already seen it, "aren't they beautiful? They go with my dress perfectly."

"Your mother has great taste."

Camille nudges her daughter's side, "Did you hear that? _I_ have great taste!"

Erin, being already dressed and practically ready to walk, had found herself distracted by the election coverage on the television screen. Her dad's attention had been drawn to it while she was getting ready and now that she's ready, she found herself just as drawn to it as he had been. It's nerve-wracking, and hopefully her wedding can distract him the way the election is distracting her. A winner won't even be declared until the late hours, early morning when all polls are closed and all votes are in. Her dad keeps going from channel to channel, news coverage to news coverage and he won't settle on one major network, "They're all practically saying the same thing. At this point it's just prediction, dad. Nothing of substance." He knows that she's only saying that because his opponent is in the lead in polls, but anything can happen.

"I know, but-"

"No buts," Camille interrupts, snatching the remote out of her husband's hand, "your daughter is getting married today. Both of you are watching the election coverage in a dress and a suit!"

"I know Cam-"

She interrupts him again, "Today is your daughter's big day, it's a moment that none of us will ever forget and I will not have you distracted." She turns the television off.

"I was actually enjoying the distraction," Erin shuts her mouth when her mother shoots a look in her direction; it reminded her of when she would be scolded as a child.

Voight rises from his seat at the edge of the bed, "You're right Cam," he looks to his daughter, "your mother's right. Today is your day," he approaches her, "and it's all about you."

"…and Jay," Erin adds earning a chuckle from her dad.

He agrees though, "and Jay," he repeats.

With the sun shining bright through the window, Erin finds herself approaching it again. Her mother stands behind her to the right and Severide is to the left, "Where's Stella?" She asks as she gazes out into the front lawn.

"She's seated," he answers and that makes Erin's entire body go stiff, "majority, if not all, of the wedding guests are here. Everyone in the wedding party is dressed and ready to take their place." That's code for, everything is set to go and all they're waiting on is her.

"You're going to be up there the whole time with me, right?"

That, earns a loud, boisterous laugh from him, "Yeah but most importantly Jay will be up there with you the whole time."

She doesn't understand why he laughs but she doesn't question it, "And dad, you're not going to let me trip on my feet or fall flat on my face?"

"…of course not," he promises.

"And mom," Erin finally turns away from the window to meet her mother's gaze, "You're going to make sure nothing goes wrong?" It was framed as a question. And silently her mother answered with a slow nod of the head as her expression softened a little while she moved closer to embrace her daughter. She held her tight, practically squeezing her but no one complained.

On the nearest dresser her phone vibrates, and knowing that it was probably Jay texting her, has her moving out of her mother's embrace, "I sent my assistant a thumbs up. Everything is ready and everyone is ready to see you get married to the love of your life."

Erin looks down at her phone, _I spoke with a few of the guests outside. They were extremely grateful that you and your mom provided food for them. I can't believe how lucky I am that I ended up with you. I must have done something right in this world for karma to treat me so good. I love you baby and I can't fucking wait to marry you, -JH_

She doesn't respond to that text because everything she wants to say, she wants to say in person. She's ready. She's no longer nervous or worried. She's been away from him long enough. She's ready to see her man. And she silences her phone and passes the device over to Severide for him to pocket it, "Make the announcement. I'm ready."

Kelly and her mother share a look before they squeeze her arm and disappear out of the room, leaving behind Erin and her father who had not yet stepped away from the window since she moved.

"I still see guests arriving," Hank whispers and once the bedroom door shuts, Erin approaches his side to look with him, "Everyone looks really nice."

"You look handsome."

Voight smirks, "Yeah…I know."

"You're so cocky," she laughs. But, the two of them spend the rest of the time, standing at the window in silence as they watch the guests arrive. It's not more than half an hour later that her mom is at the door, knocking softly before poking her head inside, "It's time baby girl." And suddenly the nerves are back, but they're not as strong as they once were, they're more subdued.

It's time. It's a new day; it's a new beginning. It's the day that starts the beginning of the rest of their lives as a married couple, as Mr. and Mrs. Halstead.

Jay stands outside. His palms sweaty as he waits for the one person he wants to see desperately appear. It's quiet. It's almost as if everyone is holding their breath. The people on the other side of the gate aren't even talking. Jay doesn't know, at least he can't remember, the last time he took a breath, and it must be noticeable because his brother's hand clasps around his shoulder as he leans in to whisper, "Remember to breathe; the last thing we need is for you to pass out."

He inhales and then exhales. He inhales, counts to four and then exhales. He does this repeatedly until he hears music softly playing in the background, until he sees everyone, every guest rise to their feet and turn towards the French doors as they are opened from the outside by Voight's chief of staff and Camille's assistant and suddenly the moment is here.

He lost his breath.

He lost his ability to speak, his ability to think.

He was grateful that he didn't have to walk because he's pretty sure he lost his ability to coordinate and move.

He can feel his eyes water. And he tries to blink the tears away but one manages to escape. It rolls down his face before dangling on his chin and then falling. It disappears.

He can hear the camera shutters as the professional photographer captures photos of her dad walking her down the aisle.

He can hear the gasps as the crowd takes in just how beautiful she is, how graceful she moves and how lucky he truly is to be here, to be marrying her.

He sees her staring at him; she's ignoring all of the eyes that are currently on her and she's focused on him. She ignores the cameras as the crowd behind the gates either takes photos or records. She ignores the general public. She ignores the guests. And she focuses on him.

Almost as soon as they started walking, they get down the aisle and her hand is placed into his before her father kisses her cheek and then goes to take a seat next to his wife. Erin hands her bouquet of flowers to Severide before turning to face Jay completely; her attention fully directed on him. And she smiles, so big and so wide.

Another tear escapes but this one she captures with the pad of her thumb. She smiles and at the sight of him with tears in his eyes and the softest expression she's ever seen on his face, she starts to get emotional, clearing her throat and blinking the tears away to ensure her makeup didn't get ruined, "I can't wait to marry you," he whispers. In his peripheral, he notices that the guests all retake their seats, "I can't wait to kiss you." She can't speak, she can't respond, not right now, because she's afraid that her voice will break and shatter.

Once the music ceases to play, they take each other's hands and turn their heads to face the minister as he begins to recite scriptures, quotes and the official vows that they repeat. Line by line is stated and heard, and the two of them fight to keep their eyes off one another. It all happens so fast. It's taken months to plan the wedding but only moments for it all to happen. His brother hands him the rings. She's sliding the band onto his finger. He's sliding it on to hers. She vows to love him, in sickness and in health and until death parts them. He vows the same, only adding in a few special words and sentences to make the vows truly his own. And now Erin wants to kiss him just as much as he craves the touch, the taste of her lips. As they turn to carefully scribble their signatures down onto the paper that would legally bind them to one another, both of them silently counted down the seconds, even as they turn to face each other once again, taking hold of one another's hands and looking into the eyes of the other as the minster finally announced, "I now pronounce you husband and wife," he smiles and then turns to face the groom, "you may now, finally, kiss your bride."

And kiss her, he did. He gripped her slim waist. He held her closest to him as her arms wrapped around his neck. Both of them could hear the crowd behind the gate cheering. The shutter of the photographer's camera was going off as he took multiple photos. Every guest at the wedding rose to their feet to clap. And if it wasn't for all the eyes set upon them, then the kiss would have deepened and Jay would have carried Erin over the threshold of the door in order to get up to the nearest guest bedroom and consummate their marriage.

She only stepped back because she could hear her dad clearing his throat.

However, his hand never left her body. His hand remained planted against her back.

"Ladies and gentlemen, to the guests who have come to watch the matrimony between Erin and Jay, I would like to announce Mr. and Mrs. Halstead," the minister applauded as the professional photographer stooped down in the aisle in order to take photos of them smiling at their guests. Jay has his hand intertwined with Erin's hand and he raises their hands into the air. Erin couldn't take her eyes off her _husband_ –he's her husband now- and she leaned over to press a chaste kiss against his smiling lips. He pulls her in closer, not agreeing with the sudden end to such a short kiss and he goes back in for another one, -an open mouthed kiss that didn't involve tongue but did involve a little lip biting. It was far from a caress but it was steamy and passionate enough that it left their guests blushing.

Camille jumped to her feet when she realized this kiss wasn't ending soon, "If everyone can just file inside, that's where the reception will take place," she cast a look to her daughter and her now son-in-law and smiled, "you two take your time, but don't be too long." She winks.

And Erin and Jay block out the sounds of chatting and movement. Neither one of them notice that they're the only two left, giving the wedding party and guests enough time to get seated so her father could announce the newly married couple.

Jay pulls back, only because a thing called oxygen demanded to be inhaled. But, neither one of his hands dropped from her body. Her face was close to his, forehead pressed against his own and his hand moved to rest against her face, thumb beneath her eye to rub away the escaped tear drop. She smiled and nuzzled her face further into his warm hand as she whispered, "I love you."

He could feel his heart beat faster, even after all this time they've spent together, all the moments they've shared and the memories they've created and she still managed to make his body have an unnatural reaction, "I love you too. I love you so much."

Leaning back, but keeping physical contact with him, she looked up to peer into his eyes, "Do you think anyone would notice if we sneak away?" No one was outside but the crowd gathered at the gates. They were loud; they were chanting their names. Neither one of them noticed though, they were both too absorbed and wrapped up in each other's company.

"I think that we need to play nice and show our faces at our reception and then after all the festivities are done, you and I will go home and christen our bedroom as a newly married couple," she leans up to kiss below his chin, "and then the next morning we leave."

"You don't know how good having you alone in Belize sounds to me."

"…yeah," she smirks, wrapping her arms around his neck, "just me, you and a bunch of guards."

"Way to ruin the mood," he quickly pecks her lips and then pulls away. The crowd only grows louder, more people seemed to have appeared, holding up posters and signs congratulating them on their recent nuptials.

As a married couple, standing beside each other, hand in hand, they waved their free hands towards the gathered crowd. And the hooting and hollering had only grown louder. Jay was pretty sure that by this point, the world knew they were officially married. News travels fast especially at the rate that the crowd was recording, taking pictures and posting online. It was no way to keep up, even as Jay got the bright idea to pull out his own phone and hold it up in the air, "Say cheese babe," she glanced up to see her face reflected back at her in the phone screen. She smiles, teeth white, as her body tucks underneath his arm. He takes a few and then hands her the camera, "I already know how you are, which picture do you like the most?"

She wants to roll her eyes. She wants to nudge him and deny everything he's insinuating, but she can't because he's right. Quickly swiping his phone from him and looking through the four photos, she selects the one that looked the best, -the one that had the right angle, the right amount of sunlight and the one that had her eyes open and not caught mid-blink, "This one is perfect."

And even though the crowd and the news outlets had beat him to the punch, it didn't stop him from uploading the picture to all his social media platforms, tagging her in it and captioning it, _Mr. and Mrs. Halstead._

She didn't have her phone on her but she had already approved of the photo so she knew that with his way with words, she would most definitely approve of the caption.

"Come on," she moved her hand to rest on top of his shoulders, "we should get inside so we can eat some of that expensive cake we splurged on."

And they did just that, walking inside, arm in arm as her dad announced their arrival to the guests, some that attended the wedding combined with those invited just to the reception. On their way to their reserved table in the center, guests approached them to speak and share their congratulations and when Jay saw his favorite baseball team, all dressed up, he nearly had a heart attack, suddenly stopping and yanking her back to nod towards them, "They came."

"Well of course they did," she chuckled, "they said they would _and_ I doubt they would not show after being granted a once in a lifetime opportunity to celebrate with the two of us."

"…when you put it like that," he starts.

And she finishes, "I make a pretty good point."

The reception kicks off with a slow start as guests were served meals as soft music played in the background. Erin and Jay sat in the center of a long table, with her man of honor to her right and her husband to her left. Will, his best man sat to the left side of her husband, since these seats were reserved for the bride, the groom and the wedding party. Gradually, the volume of the music starts to lower down and when a voice clears, the bride and groom scan their surroundings in search of her best friend, who now that she's paying attention, is no longer sitting beside her.

"He didn't finish his food," Erin whispered to Jay. But her husband was distracted by Severide holding a microphone up to his mouth as he loosens his tie, "Hey everybody. Good evening."

The crowd greets him in return.

"I hope you all are having a great evening and I'd like to thank you all for coming out to witness and help celebrate my best friend marrying the love of her life. It's that time where a few of us come up to make fools of ourselves and I believe I am up first."

Erin wasn't expecting this. She knew a maid –man- of honor speech was going to happen due to tradition but it had slipped from her mind. She sat up straighter, now ignoring the fact that the food on his plate was left half-eaten and was going to get cold in order to focus on him.

"I'd like to just take a few moments to talk to you all about my best friend, Erin, and her new husband, Jay. Erin looks absolutely amazing today, doesn't she?" The crowd claps. She blushes. Jay wraps his arm around her shoulders and pulls her in closer, "The groom, well, he looks alright," and the crowd laughs at that; Will is at his side, elbowing him in the gut until Jay shoves his hand away, "For those that don't know, I'm Kelly Severide, I'm Erin's best friend and it's nice to meet you all. I'm here to give a toast," everyone grabs their champagne glasses while staff walks around to refill the glasses of those that are empty; "I've been Erin's best friend since college. She was drawn to my bad bod, rough around the edge exterior and me, oh I was drawn to those dance moves she was exhibiting in the middle of class," Erin blushed as she remembered back to when they met in lecture, "when we first met, we constantly bumped heads but then she grew on me. Erin is a one of a kind woman. She's tiny but she can out eat anyone. She used to be obsessed with spring rolls. She refuses to use a turn signal. She can curse like a sailor. She's stubborn and she's loyal, so very loyal that sometimes I feel like I don't deserve to be best friends with someone like her, someone that loves with all their heart, someone that will defend you, take care of you and comfort you. If you need her, you know she'll be there. Always. No questions asked. Jay," he takes a glance at his best friend's husband, "you're a very lucky man because every ounce of loyalty, love, care and devotion that Erin has given me, has given her family will now also be given to you. And that's priceless. So, will everyone raise their glasses," he holds his up into the air, "and join me in saying congratulations to Erin and Jay. We all wish you infinite years of happiness and love."

Champagne glasses clink together and the crowd take a sip, and then sit their glasses down in order to clap. Severide was back at the table to finish the rest of his meal. Will rubs his hands together and then stands, palms sweating as he rubs them against a napkin. It was his turn, and he hated public speaking, he hated crowds. It was one of the reasons why he enjoyed working behind the scenes. Jay had told him that a speech wasn't mandatory but he wanted to uphold tradition, "Good evening ladies and gentlemen, I am the groom's brother, Will, I'm also the best man and I'm quite nervous," he's getting hot, his nerves crushing down upon him, "just ask Natalie, I'm pretty sure she can smell the fear on me," everyone chuckles, "but, it is a great honor to be in you all's presence despite my nerves." He finds that looking at Natalie smirking at him, provides him some type of comfort, he has to watch her in order to finish, "Today is a special day," he starts to speak from the heart, "it's a big day for me, for Nat, for the band, and for Kim because we gained a new family member, a new sister. I've known Jay for my whole life and to see him change, to see him grow into a respectable man, a role model has been one of the best things I have witnessed. Erin, you came into his life and you worked magic. I never thought I would see the day that Jay was officially off the market and I'm so grateful that he met someone like you. You both deserve the best. And I know we already raised our glasses once, but this couple deserves a second toast so will everyone raise their glasses again," he pauses to allow all the glasses to lift into the air, "to the bride and groom; may the two of you have a lifetime of health, wealth, happiness and love. I love you guys." He gulps down the rest of his champagne and then uses his tie to pat the sweat on his forehead.

As the crowd claps at the end of his speech, he rushes back over to the wedding party table, flopping down into his seat and avoiding the eyes of his brother, "That was a nice speech."

"You're going to return the favor at my wedding."

"Is that your way of asking me to be your best man?"

Will looks up to meet his eyes and he smiles, "Yeah, it is actually."

"…then I'd be honored."

"I know this is not a part of the program," the sound of Voight's gruff voice alerts everyone in the room because when the president speaks, you listen, "but I couldn't pass up the opportunity to speak at my baby girl's wedding." He's holding the microphone and how he moves around the room, reminds them that he's a politician familiar with moving a crowd –similar to Severide but with a lot more experience, "Seeing Erin here today, looking more beautiful than ever makes me smile. As every parent in this room knows, time flies by so fast. I promised Camille that I wouldn't embarrass you," the audience laughs, "and I pinky swore to Camille and Justin that I would be nice," the audience laughs again, "so this is my attempt at that," he's smiling and Jay is surprised to see such a calm expression on his face, especially when he's so used to the mean mugs and hard lines that graces his face every time he's around, "For 27 years, I have been blessed and lucky enough to watch her grow and play a part in her becoming the beautiful woman that she is today. She stole my heart the day she was born and I became more and more in love, in awe with her, inspired by her as the years passed on by. She's my little girl, regardless of age or marital status, she's my ray of light, my sunshine and nothing will ever change that. I've cared for you, protected you and defended you with every ounce of me and once I realized that Jay was willing to do the same, I knew the two of you were a good fit. This is a new beginning. Welcome to the family, Halstead."

If Erin wasn't emotional by the first two speeches, she definitely felt moved by her dad's words. She rose from her seat, leaving behind her finished plate in order to rush over to him, wrapping her arms around him and squeezing him with all the strength she had inside of her. She's happy to be his daughter. She's proud of him; she's grateful for all that he has done for her. She felt Jay's hand on her lower back, hinting to her that he must have followed her, just at a slower pace, "Thank you sir," she overheard him tell her father.

"…no, thank you." And with one arm wrapped around Erin, Voight extends the other arm, and Jay shakes it, smiling up at his now father-in-law.

"Come on Erin," Hank whispered, pecking the top her head, being careful not to ruin the style, "I think it's time for cake and we both know how much you love cake." That gets her up. That has her looking around and her eyes practically bulge out when she sees the cake being wheeled out by the baker Damien, his mother Helen and their assistant, Mary. It had four layers, and the cost was something that they didn't want to remind themselves of, -it was ridiculous to splurge on a wedding cake, but they did because this was a once in a lifetime memory being created. It was plastic figurines of them positioned at the top along with fondant flowers detailing the perimeter. Helen moved forward, holding the baker's knife to remove the top tier and carefully settle it into the box that the two of them will be taking home later, "Once you get home, just put the box in your freezer," she left the figurines inside the box, before setting the pink, small cardboard to the side, "I'll just remove the parchment paper lining," she lifts it up and hands it to her son to drop it into the trashcan, "the dowel rods, and now it's ready for cutting, here you go," she extends the knife towards them before taking a step back. Camille was happy to see that the photographer took multiple photos of the cake before it was prepped for cutting because for it to be something edible, she was going to miss looking at it.

Erin lifted the large knife, and Jay wrapped his hand around hers, allowing them both to take the sharp silverware to slice through the top, second tier of the cake, exposing the cookies and cream flavored wedding cake, "This looks really good," she whispered as their shared slice landed on a saucer, "let's have a taste," and she grabs a fork, scooping up a bite and holds it up for him to taste just as he does the same.

And the second the rich, chocolate cake, blended with a hint of Oreos inside of sweet vanilla buttercream hit her taste buds, Erin was once reminded why the decision to choose this cake overpowered her decision to choose anything else. It was heaven on her taste buds. The way her eyes closed, the way her mouth wrapped around the fork and the way the moan slipped out had Jay more focused on her than the actual cake in his own face. He swallowed without chewing and then cleared his throat, "You _cannot_ make those types of sounds in public."

"It's not my fault," she swipes up some of the buttercream onto her finger, "that the cake is so fucking good," she whispers before licking the cream off. Jay swallows. He fidgets. He shifts side to side uncomfortably because there's no way he's going to last hours if she keeps acting this way. And during this moment that he's distracted, she takes advantage of it. Swiping up another dollop of buttercream before swiping it across his lip, "What are you doing?" He laughs.

People are watching. The photographer is capturing photos and he manages to somehow blend in with the crowd so you don't always know where he is located. Mary, Helen and Damien patiently stood to the side, waiting to cut and serve the remainder of the cake to the guests. Erin takes another dollop and swipes it across his face, laughing when a drop lands on the tip of his nose and another lands on his chin, "I'm sorry Helen, you can start cutting now." She takes her husband's hand and pulls him away from the table.

"…so, I'm assuming you're going to do something about the cake you purposely put on my face," he says, following her back to their table. Their empty plates had been removed by the staff in an effort to keep up with cleaning so there would be less to do when everyone left.

"I do," she says moving towards him, and while the crowd was circling the cake table and being served slices, she took advantage of their distraction and wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning forward and up to lick the icing off his chin and the tip of his nose before planting her lips against his, using her tongue to swipe the cream off his bottom lip. She bites down, she sucks and she tightens her hold around him when she feels his hands press into her lower back.

"I can hear," his mouth moves against hers as he whispers, "I can hear the camera shutter."

She never pulls away from his mouth, even as she responds, "We'll have to," she pauses to continue to kiss him, "make sure that we get all copies," she pauses again, "of those photos."

"Want me to say something?" He doesn't break away; he honestly can't.

"Nah," she shakes her head; lips rubbing against his during the movement, "it's a bit uncomfortable now but just imagine the pictures later."

By the time their moment is over, her mother is waving for her to approach. It's time to throw the bouquet and all married and engaged women are not allowed to join the group. The single, female guests all join together, intertwined with the single, females who are staff members and each of them wait for Erin to retrieve her bouquet from Severide, "Thanks," she whispers as he slips it to her and she takes the time to step up onto a chair, Jay spotting her from behind to ensure she doesn't fall, and she turns her back to the group and swings the bouquet over her head.

She's carefree in her throw, not aiming towards anyone in particular, but when she turns around and finds the bouquet landing safely in Stella's arms, she looks over her shoulder to smirk at Kelly. He's bashfully scratching the back of his head in an effort to avoid her gaze.

"Help me down please," she says and Jay extends his hand to do just that. She hops down and rushes over to Severide, "I'm sure you saw who caught the bouquet."

"…that doesn't mean anything," he brushes it off.

"The myth states that whoever catches the bouquet will get married next."

"Unless she's planning to marry someone else, I don't think she's getting married anytime soon."

"It's still early in your relationship," she wraps her arm through his, "you have time, a lot of it actually, and if she's the right one for you, you're not going to want to lose that. I get you're not big on commitment but you'll find out soon enough what you're willing to compromise to keep the woman you love. I should go; the woman of your dream is making her way over." Severide rolled his eyes but that didn't stop Erin from kissing his cheek.

Formal photos are taken next, shots of her and her dad, her and her mom, her with both of her parents, her with her brother and then her with all four of them, soon turning into pictures with all five of them –Jay included- now that he's a part of the family, and then pictures of her with Severide, Jay with Will, and then pictures of them with the band and different guests that attended their reception. And there's no surprise that Jay had gotten multiple photos with his favorite baseball team. He was on cloud nine, so by the time the dance floor is cleared and it's the father-daughter dance, he's buzzing with excitement on the sidelines. He couldn't wait to have his bride back in his arms, but Jay knew that as a part of tradition, she needed to dance with her dad first before the outdated giveaway part was to commence.

"You look stunning," Voight tells her. He dips her and then brings her back forward.

She blushes, "…thanks dad." He twirls her around next before continuing to rock to the soft beat of the music. Her eyes are drawn to Jay's and there's nothing that anyone can do to break that connection, "Remember when you were a little girl and would stand on my feet to dance with me?" He can feel her head rest against his shoulder and she nods at the memory that invaded her mind, "I would suggest you do that now but I'm pretty sure the heels you're wearing would break a few of my toes." She smiles.

"I can always take them off."

"Nah, then I'd lose the height advantage they provide you."

Voight spins her around again, and her eyes latch onto her husband once more, "I see you're distracted."

"Sorry," she chuckles, "Was it that obvious?"

He shrugs, "Eh, just a tad bit, but it's okay Erin," she opens her mouth to interrupt but he shakes his head, "I get it. I've been where you are. You want to be in his arms and it's obvious he wants the same thing. Just save a dance for your old man before the night is over and when you do make sure you kick those heels off because I'll take you up on that earlier offer." He kisses her cheek and then waves for Jay to join them on the dance floor.

As the hours pass on by, the day starts to turn into night and Erin's first dance with her husband felt like it lasted a lifetime. It was to her song, -Erin's song on his platinum album. He spun her around. He dipped her. He kissed her. He caressed her backside. And then Erin was dancing with Justin while he danced with Camille. And then she was with Severide while he took a break to quench his thirst. The dance floor was flooded with people as the DJ of the night played music good enough to draw people out of their seats. Jay made his way towards the dessert table and balanced as many saucers of cake in his hold before making his way back to their seat. After almost bumping into the hired photographer, he decides to squeeze through the dancing crowd, smiling to himself when he sees Voight and Erin slow dancing to a fast song. She's barefoot and standing on the top of his shoes as he rocks her side to side. She's happy which makes him happy and he can only hope that he has a similar relationship with his future daughter.

Jay drops the saucers onto the table and flops down into the seat, using his napkin to wipe his fork before digging into a slice of cake, "I knowwwwww you're not stuffing your face with cake without me," he didn't bother to look up at the sound of her voice.

"You were occupied baby," he retorted, holding up his fork to grant her a bite of cake.

She dropped her heels to the floor and flopped down into the seat beside him, "I'm never too occupied for cake. And besides," she licked her lips after taking a bite off the fork, "dad had some business to attend to, his chief of staff needed him for something important."

"Anything election related?"

She shakes her head and grabs her own fork, "No, we won't expect any results until late tonight or early tomorrow morning. It's probably related to some foreign policy thing or something classified that he's not allowed to discuss with us mere civilians."

"Is he gone for good?"

She shakes her head again, "Nope, he wasn't happy about having to leave but you know, presidential duties don't wait for anybody but he's pretty determined to come back. He owes my mom a dance; he owes Burgess one too apparently." At hearing that, Jay almost chokes on the slice of cake, "…how did that happen?"

"Me," Erin answers, "she practically begged for that to happen and then handed Mouse her phone so he can switch between taking pictures and recording it." Jay shakes his head, highly amused by the entire thing.

Will and Natalie were seated at the open bar, helping themselves to the free alcohol.

Camille was dancing with Justin. And the photographer was capturing photos of them that Justin will probably bribe him to delete later.

Erin's guards were helping themselves to seconds of dinner and dessert. No one minded, it needed to all be eaten anyway since it was already all paid for.

Ruzek and Burgess were sitting in their seats, her feet on his lap as he massaged the bottom of her soles. She had her head back and she was drinking a glass of water, chest heaving from all the dancing she had done on the dance floor.

Mouse and Hallie were feeding each other cake, in their own bubble and appearing to be deeply in love. Maybe he'll be proposing soon?

And Stella and Severide were dancing, busting moves and earning laughs from Erin and Jay as they sat at their wedding table and shared another slice of wedding cake. Most of it was eaten, many people enjoyed the taste of it and went for a second slice, but there were still many slices left, -something that Erin is not going to complain about. If she has to take it home –along with the top tier that will already be leaving with her- then that's a sacrifice she's willing to make, inhaling more calories today than her summer body will appreciate. It's November anyway. She has time to get back to her summer physique, and she's a married woman now, the only person she needs to impress is her husband and if she's a few pounds heavier, he wouldn't criticize her about it.

Erin eats another forkful as she watches her best friend and his girlfriend have fun; they're dancing freely, moving around as if no one is watching. It's a fast song and the moves that Kelly is busting out remind her of college. She laughs at the memory, almost choking on the cake in her mouth before grabbing her glass of water to wash it all down. Jay is rubbing her back, laughing just as hard when he sees his bandmates join the dancefloor, "I swear Ruzek cannot dance on beat even if you paid him." Erin chances a glance in the drummer's direction and when she sees him dancing painfully offbeat, she almost chokes again, causing Jay to pat her back.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah," she clears her throat, "you can't make me laugh when I have food in my mouth."

And the night dwindled down from there. From her father returning to the wedding, to them handing out District 21's newest album to their guests as party favors, to Erin ensuring that the leftover cake was packed up and stored in her parents' refrigerator for her to pick up when she returned from her honeymoon ten days later. It was after midnight when Erin and Jay loaded into the back of a limo, hand in hand, absolutely exhausted from waking up at such an early hour. With her head on his chest, she dozed off and had only woke back up when he gently nudged her, "We're here." And as tradition states, he carries her over the threshold of their home, not setting her down until they're in their bedroom.

But neither one of them are in any mood for making love tonight.

She barely felt like washing the makeup off her face, but she found enough energy to get it done.

They had a flight at six in the morning.

They were only going to get three hours of sleep since they needed to be at the airport no later than four in the morning.

Both of them stripped to their bare minimums and hung their wedding attire up in the back of their walk-in closet, knowing that it will never be worn by them again. When the closet shuts, Erin leans back against it, her hair falling to curtain around her face, "I'm so fucking exhausted."

"…you and me both," he sighed, walking over to press a kiss against her forehead, "I'm a little disappointed that I'm too fucking exhausted to fuck your brains out right now."

"…romantic," she chuckled dryly, patting his bare chest so he'll move away, "but even if you had the energy, I'm just as tired. Why would we ever book such an early flight?"

"It sounded like a good idea at the time."

Standing in the nude, they pulled the covers back on their bed and before Erin could crawl inside and bury herself into the plush mattress, her phone vibrated, alerting her that she needed to put it on the charger. She crossed the room, grabbing it off the top of the dresser and on her way to the charger on her end table, she sees a text from Platt, - _it's projected that your dad will win._

She doesn't even feel like turning on the television to watch her dad's opponent deliver his concession speech. She doesn't even feel like watching her dad's victory speech. She'll stream it tomorrow while at the airport.

"Jay," she looks up to meet his eyes, smiling, "based on the Electoral College; my dad is projected to win." She wants to jump up and down. She wants to go back to the White House. But, she's too fucking drained to move a muscle. Instead she goes to her photos and swipes through the endless amount of pictures taken –by Severide she assumes since he had her phone the entire evening- and she loads up a picture of them during the father-daughter dance. Her bare feet are standing on top of his dress shoes, her head resting against his chest, eyes closed and a small smile is graced upon her face. And without any hesitation she loads it up, adding a caption before uploading it to all her social media platforms.

 _Congratulations Mr. President, here's to another four years._

She tags him in the message before plugging her phone into the charger. Absolutely tired and fatigued, she watches her husband through drowsy eyes as he grabs his phone, "You are the country's first daughter for another four years," he smiled.

"Welcome to the first family, you're now a member yourself."

"God woman, I want you so bad."

"…maybe we can join the mile high club during our flight to Belize?"

He shakes his head, "…maybe we can join it on our way back? I will not have our first time as a married couple on an airplane because I don't want to be uncomfortable and I don't want to rush. I want to take my time with you, worship every part of you," he winks.

Erin had tucked herself into her usual position for sleeping with her head on Jay's chest, just under his head, and her left hand resting over the center of his chest, allowing her engagement ring and wedding band to catch the glimmer of the moonlight that was spilling in through their opened curtains, "I can't believe we're married."

He kisses her forehead, "…one of the best days of my life."

"Mine too baby," she snuggled in deeper, sighing aloud when she found the most comfortable position.

With his free arm, the one that wasn't currently wrapped around his wife's waist, he picked up his phone and tapped into the camera app. He lifted his cell up to capture a picture of the way his wife had curled and cuddled into him. Although it was clearly obvious to anyone that observed the picture that Erin was naked, lying beneath the comforter and the satin navy blue sheets their bed was outfitted in. She was wrapped in the sheets and against him so tightly that her bare shoulders were the only body part shown. Her left hand, the rings wrapped around her ring finger were the focus of the photo, showing all who looked at the photo that she was his and only his and that she was a permanent fixture in his life. Jay's own face was buried into the top of her hair, obscured and hidden enough for everyone to know it was him she was laying with but not enough to reveal the sated smile and the exhausted eyes from a man who had gotten married hours ago. The photo was perfect. It captured their first night together as husband and wife. It was far too perfect to keep to himself. So with a determined smile on his face, a passion geared towards the woman in his arms and the love of his life, he posted it to all forms of social media, adding the simplest yet most fulfilling and loving caption beneath it.

 _You are the everyday of my life that I have always dreamt of._


	57. To Be Home

By the time the plane touchdown in Belize, Erin was fast asleep, head on Jay's chest, knees up to her chest and body tucked under his arm. His head was lolled back; his eyes closed and loud snores came out of his partially opened mouth. During the entire six hour flight, the newlyweds had fell asleep the second their butts planted into the couch cushions and fortunately no one disturbed them until it was time to deboard the plane. With Atwater stooping low in front of them, voice whispered so he didn't scare them awake, he gently shakes her knee, "Erin."

Instead of opening her eyes, she nuzzles her face further into Jay's chest and groans, "Huh?"

"We're here," he says, moving his hand to shake Jay's knee next, "Rise and shine newlyweds. It's time to get up. We're here."

When Atwater moves to the front of the plane to discuss the next security measure that should be taken with the other members of secret service, Jay uses that time to raise the sleeping beauty in his arms from slumber. He's gentle. He's careful not to startle her. He moves his opposite arm around her, to encircle her in his arms as he whispers, "We finally landed," he knows they only got a few hours of sleep with how busy their night had been, but the six hours they caught while in route to Belize will help a lot in battling jetlag, "it's the official start of our honeymoon."

For the next ten days, Belize will be their home away from home. Even with the extra security following them around and staying a few blocks away from the bungalow they'll be residing in, there was nothing and no one that can stop them from having an amazing time. The guards bungalow wasn't too close to intrude on their privacy but it wasn't too far away if something went wrong either. Grabbing the railing of the descending stairs, she followed closely behind her husband while half of the guards were in front of him and the other half were behind her. Since they were out of the country, her dad's chief of staff assigned them a few extra guards –Hailey Upton, Laura Nagel and Mark Jefferies- for added protection. It was the same guards she was temporarily assigned to during Thanksgiving so she was at least grateful that her dad's chief of staff appointed a familiar face to be with them for ten days.

By the time Erin's feet touched the gravel, a limo was pulling up to them. Their bags were in the possession of the staff of the private landing area their plane touchdown on. With arms full of luggage, it was carried over to the trunk of the limo, "How much stuff did you bring?" Jay threw his arm around her shoulders and pulled her flush up against his chest.

"I didn't want to over pack a suitcase because I have every intention of bringing souvenirs back and I was going to need space," she turned in his embrace to look up at him, "and it's not like I have to pay per bag. The rules don't apply for private planes." She rose up to kiss his chin, "We should probably text everyone to let them know we arrived safe and sound." He nods his agreement and pats her backside before dropping his hand.

"How long is the drive to the bungalow?"

The limo driver tips his hat and opens the back door for the couple, "It should take no more than an hour," his heavily accented voice informs. Jay and Erin climb into the backseat while her guards get into the truck they rented for the occasion to follow behind.

Erin slides over to the opposite window and rolls it down, "It's so fucking humid," she kicks off her sandals, pulls her hair up into a ponytail using the hair tie that was around her wrist, "Ah, that's a little better," and then she pulls her cell out of her pocket.

"…maybe we can ask him to put on the air conditioning."

"If I'd known it was going to be this hot and humid I would have worn a dress." She unlocks her phone and sends off the same exact typed message to her parents, Justin and Severide.

 _You don't need to call the cavalry. We landed safe and sound, -EV._

She tosses her cell phone back into her large beach bag before shifting in her seat to lay her bare feet in her husband's lap. He sends off a simpler message to his brother and the band, _Landed, -JH_ , and then drops his phone into the seat in order to free his hands and wrap them around her feet, massaging the arch and each individual toe.

Her eyes shut and her head falls back, "You always give the best foot massages."

"Now that I won your heart, I gotta figure out ways to keep it."

That causes her to slowly open her eyes and lift her head, "You'll always have it Jay."

A silence falls over them, they're staring into each other's eyes and when the trunk is slammed shut, it causes them to jump apart, Erin lowers her feet back to the floor of the limo as the driver slides back into the front seat, his hat back on his head and the glass divider that separated the back from the front is lowered, "Hello Mr. and Mrs. Halstead, I'm Manuel Garzia, I'll be the driver for your extended stay. If there's anything you need while you're here, I've given my number to Mr. Roman and if there's anything you wish to ask, just press the button in the center above your heads and it'll lower the divider."

And before Manuel is able to raise it back up, Jay speaks, "Do you mind cutting on the air conditioning? It's pretty hot back here."

"Oh of course," and the second Manuel cuts it on, they hear it pumping, "if it gets to cold and you want to raise the temperature or cut it off completely, the buttons and knobs are back there as well. Music control is to the left of it."

"Manuel," Erin calls out, reaching up to turn the temperature up by a few degrees, "it's really nice to meet you. During our stay, will you always be driving us around in a limo?"

"…not if you don't want me to. My boss thought and I thought that you'd prefer this in comparison to a regular rented car."

"A regular rented car would actually be nice." Especially in comparison to this, it felt a bit obnoxious and arrogant. Erin met his eyes in the rearview mirror and she smiled, "We don't need anything huge and extravagant. Here, we're just Erin and Jay, and you can call us that."

-x-

It was no surprise that the second they reached their bungalow and brought their luggage inside, the two of them crashed. Bodies flopped down in the upstairs bedroom, eyes shut tight and snores filling their bedroom. His arm wrapped around her body, drawing her up against his chest allowing her to snuggle her face into the crook of his neck. It's like his subconscious knows because he starts to smile in his sleep. It was mid-afternoon when he feels a weight pressed against him, she's straddled on top of him, leant over, face hovering inches above his. She has her hands pressed against the mattress on either side of his head and she's planting kisses around his face, drawing her lips along his jaw, pecking the corners of his lips, all while she's patiently waiting for those beautiful eyes of his to open up.

"There's my handsome husband," she only lifts her head up a fraction to look into his eyes. He smiles. His hands plant themselves against her ass, and he pushes her down, rubbing his core against her own, earning a silent moan to slip from her lips.

She moves one hand to grab his jaw, "Just what do you think you're doing?" He does it again and this time the moan that escapes her is much louder.

"I think I'm about to make love to my wife."

And without further ado, he tightens his hold around her, flips over, rolling her onto her back so he's hovering above her. Going in for a desperate kiss as their clothes are pulled, yanked, pushed to the side and torn and tossed all over the bedroom in an effort to get to the act of consummating their marriage. Skipping the foreplay because they were in desperate need of each other since they weren't able to satisfy that sexual craving the night before; he lines up to her, smiling at the thought of christening their bedroom for the week. It was going to be the first of many rooms they were going to christen and just at the thought of that, the eagerness that rose with the reminder that he has the rest of his life to make love to this woman, to his wife has him leaning in closer, "Are you ready for me?" He whispers against her ear before kissing the lobe.

She has her hands wrapped around his neck, holding him closer as she whispered back, "I'm always ready for you." She kissed the side of his head as he slipped inside of her. Her mouth fell open at the sensation. But his lips wrapped around her earlobe, gently biting down and tugging it as he rocked back and forth. The sound of her breaths and moans were music to his ears.

He pushed in farther; the feel of his girth hitting her core. And she tossed her head back, forcing her ear to slip from between his lips. He didn't seem to mind. His lips found a new placement against her collarbone, biting, nipping and sucking the area until she whispered, "Kiss me." And there was no way he could deny her that. So after planting a final peck against the darkening hickey on her neck, he moved his mouth to meet hers, "I love you."

It feels nearly impossible for her to say it back because she's approaching her climax, her ultimate release that he never fails to deliver. Each stroke massaged her from the inside out. It never got old and fifty years into the future, she hopes she will never grow tired of the way he makes her feel inside and out. Her release triggered his own; his body spasms above hers as he empties himself inside of her warm and welcoming core.

As they came down from their high, their breathing in sync and his lips temporarily planted and placed against her jawline the second his body relaxes and grows heavy above hers. His length still rested inside of her. And without shifting too much, she bends her knees, planting her feet on the bed as he remains lying between her legs. Her hands run through his hair and finally he pulls his lips off of her jawline in order to stare down into her eyes, "That was-"

"Amazing," she filled in the blank. He nods in agreement.

"I don't even want to move."

She runs her hand down his back, her fingers tickling against his spine, "Who says you have to?"

"It's getting pretty late. I'm getting pretty hungry. And we're both getting pretty sticky."

Erin leans up to kiss his lips, "A part of me wants us to stay cocooned in here for the night, maybe order some food and eat it naked while in bed in between rounds of sex."

He pulled out of her slowly and rolls to lay beside her with his arm bent and his hand propping up his head, "You're really a woman after my own heart."

"I'm really a woman that's already got it," she said with a sated grin.

Jay rubs her tummy when it growls, "I'll go see if there are any menus around this place. You get cleaned up. Come find me when you do."

"What's the point when you're just going to dirty me up again?"

Jay sat up but didn't take his eyes off of her. His hand wrapped around her upper thigh and he could see his seed he left behind flaking up. He squeezed her thigh and rose up to his bare feet, "I don't mind either way," he grabs his boxers off the floor, "I kind of like having me all over you."

"You're such a freak," she chuckled, covering her face with her hands. She laughs into her opened palms, "I'll go freshen up. You find the menus. We order. Maybe skinny dip in the outdoor, backyard pool until the food comes? And then we're onto christening the next room."

He pulls open the bedroom door, "Do I get to pick the next room?"

"…sure," she answers. She's looking at him suspiciously because it's obvious he already had a spot in mind.

"The staircase," he simply states before walking out of the room.

She doesn't bother throwing on clothes. She jumps to her feet and goes after him, "Jay," she's at the railing, looking down to the first floor and shaking her head when he looks up from the first floor, "Do you realize how uncomfortable that's going to be? I am not having sex with you on the stairs. It's going to be pressed into my back. You have to choose another spot."

He shrugs off her concerns and turns around to continue walking towards the kitchen, "Trust me Er," he shouts over his shoulder, "The stairs can't press into your back if you're riding me!"

-x-

With the straw in her mouth, she drank from the coconut as she walked ahead of her husband in the outside market in the town of San Pedro. She kicks at the small pebbles on the ground as Jay hands the man enough money to take care of their purchased coconuts. And the second he has his coconut in hand, he's jogging to catch up to her, "It's nice here."

"It's nice not really being recognized."

Only on occasion have they been stopped and asked for pictures and in Jay's case autographs. It was nothing compared to the amount of times they're bombarded back home.

Jay wraps his mouth around the straw and takes a sip, sucking hard enough to gulp down a bit of the coconut water. It was refreshing. It was perfect; it was all perfect, from the weather outside and the temperature to the citizens of Belize and the few street shows they've managed to witness during their walk through the streets. He tucks his hand into the back pocket of Erin's shorts and he holds her close and despite the awkward position, he doesn't remove his hand from her back pocket, "I think we should make a tradition out of this."

"You want to come back here every year?"

She swallows the gulp she'd just taken, "No, I meant vacationing during this time of year, maybe for our anniversary. We can go to a different place."

"…and when we have kids?"

"I'm sure my parents or your brother or someone will watch them," she winks, as they continue walking down through the flea market, "They'll come with us for family vacations but because I'm pretty sure our anniversary trips will be full of sex and walking around naked, I would prefer not to scar my future children so early in their life."

"Who's to say that our family vacations won't be filled with the same thing?" Jay squeezes her ass before withdrawing his hand from the pocket of her jeans. He continues to walk and this time she's forced to jog in order to catch up to him.

When Erin catches up, she bumps her hip up against his before taking another sip through the straw stuck inside of her coconut. She speaks once she swallows, "It's my turn to pick our next spot and position to have sex." This statement pulls a raise in his brow.

"What has gotten into you, Er?" He smirks down at her and provides his following statement with a wink, "Well, you know…besides me."

She slaps his chest, "We went with the stairs like you wanted and that was proven to be a horrible idea so it's only right that I choose the next location."

"You liked it."

"…yeah, it was pleasurable and you definitely got me off but I don't think we'll be doing that again anytime soon especially because the longer and harder I rode you, the more my knees started to hurt pressed into the wooden stairs _and_ I should add because you're becoming an old man with back problems."

"I'm one year older than you," he retorts, rolling his eyes, "And the stairs aren't carpeted and the edge of it was pushing into my back," he could see her prepared to open her mouth to say I told you so but he continues to talk, preventing her from chiming in, "and yeah, yeah, I know what you're going to say but I was fine at first and then you started to ride me hard and fast and it was pushing my back into the stair."

She almost looks offended, "So, it's my fault?"

"I didn't say that."

"…but you implied it."

He doesn't know if she's upset or not but it's their honeymoon and he isn't going to risk pissing his wife off when they've only gotten married a little over two days ago.

Instead as a peace offering, he throws his arm around her shoulders and leads her towards the nearest food cart, disposing of their empty coconuts, they stood near the menu to skim the options, "You do pick the better options," he gives in and she smiles up at him. He's already starting to learn the true meaning behind the saying happy wife, happy life.

"We can keep rotating who gets to pick. I like that you keep me on my toes," she turns around to face him, grabbing the bottom of his shirt to hold him close, "but I think we should keep it simple this time. Let's christen the living room."

"The living room is pretty big. Are we thinking the couch, the coffee table or up against the wall?" And she shrugs, turning back to face the food stand.

"Wherever the night leads us, we'll take it there. And who knows, maybe we'll have a round on all three?" She winks. And if they weren't in public, he'd probably take her right now.

Trying a range of food from cochinita pibil, ceviche and tamales to stew chicken, salbutes and garnache, it felt like a true tourist experience. The locals were practically shoving food, snacks and drinks into their hands for them to sample and when the locals are rewarded and tipped with American dollars, they overly thank them. It was sweet.

"I'm sorry," Erin unfortunately shook her head when another person waved for them to approach his cart, "I'm so full. I couldn't possibly eat another bite."

"…there's always a first for everything."

The back of her hand slaps against his chest, "Oh be quiet," she reprimands before grabbing his wrist and yanking him in the direction of a cart filled with homemade jewelry, "each of these are so beautiful," and so cheap she thinks quietly, "I would like this one," she lifts the necklace and hands it to the owner, "and this one," she grabs a bracelet, "and this one," she grabs another necklace and gives it to the man for him to bag up.

"Are those for you?"

"The bracelet is," Erin admits, unlatching her purse to pull out her wallet, "one of the necklaces is for Natalie and the other is for Burgess."

"Are we doing souvenirs?"

She shrugs as she hands the man the cash, "I figured we should. And I couldn't pass up this beautiful jewelry, supporting small businesses and hard work."

Jay scratches the back of his head, "…maybe I should look for something for the guys."

"There's no rush," she takes the small bag from the man and tosses him a smile, "we have the rest of the week and a few extra days."

After a few more stops, buying trinkets and souvenirs for their loved ones, they make their way back towards the main, busy street, finding their rented car and driver standing outside of it. He opens the back door and she climbs in first, balancing all of her bags on her arms until she can safely place them on the floor of the car. Jay hands her his many bags and she holds them until he's inside of the car and can place them on the floor between their feet.

"How was the experience?"

"The locals were so friendly," Erin gushes, searching through her many bags to find the bracelet she purchased for herself, "the food was really good and the trinkets they were selling were unique. Thank you for the recommendation."

He glanced up to meet her eyes in the rearview mirror, "Anytime, Mrs. Halstead."

"It's Erin," she reminds. And he blushes.

"I'm sorry; it's a force of habit. Anytime _Erin_ ; now where to next?"

There day ended snorkeling at Ambergris Caye, parasailing during a Belizean sunset before closing out the night with a seaside seafood dinner at a restaurant where the newlywed couple treated their guards and their temporary driver to an all you can eat, seafood buffet.

-x-

It was a good idea when Jay first mentioned it but now that she's practically –almost- standing above the clouds -she's a bit dramatic- she's starting to change her mind. It's foggy outside. It's humid too. Yet she's caked in sunscreen and bug spray, wearing knee-length shorts, closed toe shoes and a sports bra and tank top overlapping it with a helmet strapped around her head. No jewelry on besides her marital rings. Pockets empty. There's a harness strapped all around her and she's pretty grateful that Jay convinced her to wear longer shorts than the ones she was initially going to put on because the harness tightens around her, presses and draws up her shorts to make them appear shorter than their actual length. She's handed a pair of black gloves that are more for protection than style because she's going to have to hold onto the handles of the trolley that her harness is attached to, "Why did I agree to this?"

"…because I went on that chocolate tour with you earlier today and I agreed to let you choose our next room even though it's technically my turn," he reminds, wrapping his arm around the shaking shoulders of his wife, "It's all about compromise my love."

"The difference is what I chose was enjoyable for the both of us. And don't act like we didn't compromise with the living room. We had enough energy to get a round in all three spots you suggested. I chose the room and you chose the spot next so technically it is my turn again."

Jay meets the eyes of the amused tour guide and he earns a slap in the chest when he says, "…never argue with a lawyer. You'll lose every time."

Erin was going to go first. Jay had done this before years ago and he'd prefer to witness the rush of adrenaline take over her face the second she steps off the platform. He's also a little paranoid and would prefer to watch and ensure that the guide straps and hooks everything up smoothly so there's no accidents. They signed a waiver for a reason; it's to protect the business in case something bad happens and Erin being the lawyer that she is read every line before signing her name on the dotted one. She's the next to go and she's freaking out. Her palms are sweating and she cannot stop rubbing them against her pants.

"Hey," he reaches for her wrist and tugs her over, her body moves easily and it presses up against his, "if you're scared, you don't need to do this. You have nothing to prove to me. You already took me skydiving for my birthday."

"I am scared," she admits, "but I wouldn't have agreed to do this if I didn't want to do it."

He leans over and kisses the corner of her mouth, "Are you sure? It's not too late to go back."

"I'm sure," she says. And she quickly presses her lips against his before drawing back, "I needed that. It was for good luck."

The guy in charge takes his time to hook her up. This place was chosen because of its high safety marks. No one has gotten hurt on his watch and he'd prefer to keep that number as zero, especially considering now it's the first daughter's life that depends on it. He goes over the instructions one more time with her. He carefully answers all follow-up questions that she provides. When all is said and done, she approaches the edge of the platform and grabs hold of the handle before the guide gives her a supportive smile as Jay chants in the background, "You got this," over and over again until she takes the final leap off.

It's an immediate adrenaline rush. The second she steps off and her body is hung freely up in the air, the harness she's attached to slides gracefully along as she's whipped through the forest, floating above the calm nature that rests before her. As the wind rips against her face, her eyes dry out but it doesn't take away from the experience. It was an adrenaline rush, not one as intense as when she went skydiving, but it is definitely the second most intense one she felt. She takes a chance to look back when she hears Jay hooting and hollering; he has one hand around the handle and the other is clenched into a fist and pounding up and down into the air.

His reaction was priceless. His reaction made this worth it.

She was hanging a little over one hundred feet into the air and when she reached the next platform, she was quickly switched to the second of the course and given a brief repeat of instructions before she was practically pushed off the ledge. She didn't have time to relax. She didn't have time to calm her racing heart. She barely had time to tighten her grip around the handle but this one, even though she was a little below one hundred feet in the air this time, this one felt scarier because she didn't feel as prepared. She wasn't mentally ready to just hop onto the next zipline in order for it to take her to the third and final one of the course.

Fortunately though, this time when her feet touches the platform, she's unhooked and she gets a chance to wait for Jay to arrive before they follow the next guide towards the third. She sees him coming, and he's approaching pretty quickly and she can barely step back before he's suddenly jerked back from the intensity of his landing. He's not bothered by it though. His face is red and he's still cheering and she knows for a fact that if she asks him if he wants to do the entire course again, he would say yes. He would say hell yes.

"What do you think so far?" He tosses his arm around her shoulders the second he's unhooked.

"I think this is definitely a once in a lifetime experience," it's her way of implying that she's never doing this again. She's afraid of heights yet in one year she's done two things that goes against her entire phobia. They start to follow behind the guide towards the next line.

"In the future, when we vacation with our kids, I hope at least one of them has my desire for risk-taking activities. I have so many things in mind."

"Even if they do," Erin shimmies from under his arm, "they won't be doing any of those activities at least until they're 16."

"Are we having our first parental disagreement?"

She laughs upon hearing that, "No," she steps forward and allows the guide to strap her on the last trolley of the course; this one is supposed to take longer than the last two, "once those kids are here and you're looking into their eyes begging to go bungee jumping or something just as equally crazy, you're going to wish you didn't pray to have a kid addicted to adrenaline rushes."

"You're probably right," he scratches the back of his head at the thought. In theory it would be nice, it would be a bonding activity but if he tries to put it in reality, picturing his kid who he will swear to protect with his life doing countless of risky activities gives him pause.

"I love it when you say that," she grabs onto the handles and carefully steps to the edge, "and babe, that's why we have friends, so when the spouse doesn't want to do something crazy, we have them to do it with us. I'm sure Ruzek and Rixton will be willing to do whatever crazy ideas come into that beautiful head of yours."

And she doesn't wait for a response. She jumps, a lot more confidently than she did the first two times and the next bit of time is filled with her looking around, the wind blowing through the ends of her hair while the helmet holds down the top of it. She sees birds flying above her. She's going too fast to notice anything moving in the trees or beneath her. Ignorance is bliss though. She'd prefer not to know what lived in the nature below her.

She attempts to release one hand from the handle –thinking of her husband's earlier move- but when she feels a little less safe and stable, she immediately puts it back. She's good as is. She can hear his voice echoing through the forest, he must have just started, only because she's seconds away from finishing. But, she's going pretty fast. And it takes the worker to pull the rope and reach out to slow her down, bringing her to the ledge of the platform before pulling her further onto it, "Did you enjoy yourself?"

"I did," her face is flushed. Her cheeks are windblown. She's grinning from ear to ear, unable to keep still as she is unhooked and the harness is removed. She moves to the back and waits for Jay and a few minutes later, he sweeps back onto the platform, cheering and pounding his fist.

"I can see you enjoyed yourself," the staff worker says, earning a nod of the head from Jay.

Erin practically flings herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck even as the worker struggles to unhook him with her in the way. She's pressing kisses against his face, the adrenaline coursing through her body coming out in passionate waves. He has his hands planted on her hips, squeezing tightly even as the harness is removed from him. She's still kissing him. And he loves it but if this continues then they'll never leave. He pulls his head back and out of reach of her lips, "Baby," he chuckles, "not that I don't love and enjoy every kiss of yours but you have this man over here blushing," and she sees the friendly worker doing just as her husband had pointed out.

"Sorry," she whispered politely to him.

"…no worries," he waved her off and focused back on the rope, watching and waiting for the next person to come.

Jay takes his wife's hand and starts leading her through the exit, their limbs loose and the adrenaline still pumping in unimaginable waves. She leans into his body and he kisses the top of her head, "If I know you as well as I think I do, I would say you enjoyed that."

She couldn't even lie, "I did. I liked it much more than skydiving."

"So-"

"You're about to attempt to convince me to do this again."

"We have time," he replies, pulling her to a stop, "we only have the market and the spa planned for today so we have ample amount of time."

Erin doesn't respond. She drops her head into her hands and groans before turning around and walking in the direction of the entrance, of the area in which they'll pay for another round. Jay pumps his fist again before breaking out into a jog to catch up to her.

There day had ended with another round of zip lining, a visit to another market –San Ignacio Market- where they brought more souvenirs for themselves and their loved ones and fresh produce and meats so they can actually make use of the kitchen in their bungalow followed by a relaxing spa where they didn't even have to leave the land surrounding their home for the trip because the hired staff of the nearest spa drove to their place and set up what was needed for a deep tissue massage on the private beach in front of their bungalow.

-x-

As they approached the platform, moving closer and closer to the chopper, the air blew against their faces, knocking the lower end strands of her hair against her face. She feels her body physically fighting against the wind from the rotors. Jay has her hand in seconds and he turns her body inwards, to use his chest to shield her face from the strong air being pushed from the propellers. The path leading up to the helipad must have been newly paved because of its smooth and even surface. They practically glided across the surface and while her face was buried into his chest to block out the strong, gusting wind, his was aimed towards the surrounding field, watching the weeds, flowers and tall grass blow around helplessly because of the strong gusts of wind formed by the gargantuan blades attached to the top of the aircraft.

Erin is helped into the helicopter and everything from there progresses smoothly, or as smoothly as it can. It was so much noise surrounding them. From the pilot's headset to the humming, buzzing and beeping noises radiating from inside and outside of the chopper, it was so much noise that it made it hard to think, hard to process everything that was going on. Her guards weren't riding along –no more than four can go- so between she and Jay, the pilot and the co-pilot, it was a booked ride. She was willing to trade seats with one of her guys but she's pretty sure Jay wouldn't approve of that. This is their honeymoon and they're definitely making memories that she'll never forget, even if during the present moment the memory is being created she wishes that she could be anywhere but here.

Once she sat down and strapped herself in, Jay reached over and tightened her seatbelt, making it uncomfortably snugged against her chest, but she didn't complain, she was too worried to voice any objection. All she could focus on was the fact that in a few minutes, her life will be in the hands of two strangers who have guaranteed the safe passage of her and Jay to and from the blue hole. All she had was their word, -and their credentials, but it's kind of hard to remember that they're trained and certified to do this when lights are flickering and buttons are being pressed with a little more force than what she considers to be necessary. It was less than five minutes after Jay tightened the harness around her that the aircraft began its slow ascent into the air.

The warmth of Jay's smile is reassuring enough to keep her worries silent. She doesn't voice them because she's not as scared, not as afraid as she was skydiving and zip lining.

What is with them planning activities that require her to be up in the air? She prefers for her feet to remain planted on the ground yet here she is in a helicopter that's taking off at a much faster speed than any airplane she's ever ridden on. She wasn't prepared. Even though she's sitting down, buckled in with a ground mechanic headset around her ears to protect her hearing, she's still a bit unnerved about this. There was no runway. Apparently helicopters didn't need one like airplanes do. Instead, they're just lifted up vertically off the ground, her hand immediately flying to grip onto the handle attached above the door. She squeezes onto it tightly, hoping it'll steady her nerves and then she shuts her eyes closed, "You're going to miss the view."

"I'll open my eyes when we get there," she bites. A helicopter taking off doesn't give her the sense that her body is being pushed back into the seat; instead she feels like she's going up in an elevator, and she can handle elevator rides so she shouldn't be so dramatic.

She doesn't understand it. She's not afraid to fly, she's never been scared to hop on an airplane, at least, not that she can remember, but for some reason this helicopter ride spooked her nerves.

The ride is smooth so she does open her eyes before they get to the view, -the blue hole.

"It's a low-level flight Er," he slides closer to her, "we're not as high up as we are on the airplane. We're closer to the ground than the clouds." He tries to settle his chin on her shoulder but their headsets bump against each other and it proves to be more difficult than it's worth.

"Why do you insist on torturing me?" A dry chuckle comes out and it reassures him that she isn't mad or particularly upset, she's just really, really curious.

He kisses her cheek and then pulls away, "I would never torture you," her eyes are trained on him, she hasn't looked out the window yet and that was on purpose, "maybe push you out of your comfort zone a little, but torture you, I wouldn't do that. Now come on," he squeezes the fleshy part of her thigh, "you're missing a beautiful view and we haven't even gotten to the blue hole yet so just imagine how gorgeous that sight will be," he leans over to kiss the corner of her mouth, "babe, I would really love to enjoy this view with my wife."

It's something about the way he calls her his wife. It's something about the way he says babe. If he calls her that, then he knows he'll get what he wants; there's no way she can deny him when he sounds so in love calling her his wife.

Erin inches her eyes open and scoots to the edge of her seat to see better outside of the window.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Jay wants to whisper it but he's forced to shout because the helicopter is so freaking loud and annoying. Silently, because she honestly doesn't feel like shouting back, she nods her head and peers even closer. It suddenly takes away her nerves. She's so focused on the beautiful, fluorescent color of the ocean below, of the sandy beaches that she barely has the time or opportunity to focus on the loud sound of the blades rapidly circling above them.

Jay reaches for her hand, intertwines his fingers with hers and then brings her hand up to his lips, kissing over her knuckles as they both enjoy the beautiful sights outside of the helicopter. She's happy she opened her eyes. She's happy her nerves are allowing her to enjoy this moment. They had plans to go to the Belizean zoo afterwards and then close out their day with more shopping, mainly so Erin can buy items to paint her husband, in what she hopes is the nude. But for right now, she wasn't thinking of the rest of the day, she was thinking of the present moment, watching the waves of the ocean crash, dolphins leap above the water before crashing back down seconds later. She watched as they moved further and further from the beach and half an hour later when they're above the blue hole, she realizes why this is a must-see.

It's hard to resist taking photos of it.

It's a birds eye view of a natural wonder.

"As you can see below, there are a few divers in the area," the pilot informs them as he flies the aircraft over and around the blue hole. It was an option to dive but neither of them were experienced enough since the prerequisite was to have at least 24 hours logged and they both are still amateur level divers, -only ever doing it once a few days ago where they were taught, guided and not allowed to dive below a certain depth.

The copilot speaks next, "It's an underwater sinkhole," as a part of the tour, the two guides lay out the fun facts, "it's the world's largest natural formation of its kind."

"How far is it from the mainland?" Jay shouted over the buzzing of the propellers; his eyes remain on the blue hole the entire time, not even drawing away when the pilot answers.

"It's 60 miles from mainland Belize."

"…and how deep is it?" Erin's question comes out in amazement. They're flying so low and there's just something magical about being so close to something like this.

"I believe it's around 410 feet deep and it expands across 984 feet; those numbers tend to vary a bit though," the copilot looks back at her and he smiles when he catches the glimmer of amazement in her eyes, "and one of the most fascinating things about it is the blue hole used to be a cave. It's a sinkhole now because rising water filled the cave and it collapsed on itself."

The beautiful close-up view they've received, the calmness of the waves, and the smooth ride circling the blue hole, all made this experience worth it. With Jay's hand in hers the entire time they peered out of their windows, taking photos of the view every couple of seconds, she brought his hand up to her face and snuggled against it, "This was a really good idea."

He doesn't say anything back. He's too busy dividing his time between looking at her and looking at the view down below. If you ask him, they're both two magnificent wonders of the world.

-x-

With her toes sinking into the wet sand, her hand intertwined with that of her husband's and the waves of the ocean pushing against her ankles, she knew that there was no one she'd rather be with than him and no place she'd rather be than here. She had no honeymoon to compare it to but this one deserves to set the record for the best, for being perfect, for being absolutely everything she could have imagined. She tightened her hold on his hand before taking off, running -or attempting to run- further into the ocean, the waves splashing against them and trying to push them back to shore as they run against the current. He lets her hand go and scoops her up into his arms, "Jay!" She laughs. She's wrapping her arms around his neck and holding on tight out of fear that he'll accidentally drop her.  
"You wanted to go for a swim," he reminded, and the further out they go, the bigger the waves get, "so we're finally going on that swim, my love."  
She kisses his neck and then buries her face into the crook of it, "Okay," she giggles, "Just don't drop me."  
"What was that? Your words were a little muffled."  
She lifts her head and whispers against his ear, "I said don't drop me."  
"...don't what?"  
"Drop. Me."

And suddenly, before she even notices, he lets go of her.

Water surrounds her. It's above her. It's below her. It's to the right and to the left of her. And when she takes a little too long to rise back to the surface, she feels his arm dip below the water, wrap around her bicep and forcefully pull her up. When her head comes above water, she spits the salty ocean water out, some of it landing on Jay's face and chest, causing him to step back in disgust. Scrunching his face up as he wipes his chest, "…gross," he mumbles.

"Well if you wouldn't have dropped me when I was mid-sentence then my mouth wouldn't have been open and water wouldn't have gotten into it," she retorts, using the palm of her hands to splash water into his face. She didn't feel guilty; he deserved that.

He would have taken the sudden assault of water to his face as a challenge to a splash battle but he chose to enjoy the solitude, the serenity of the beach with their bungalow only a couple of steps away by using one hand to block the water and the other hand to circle around her waist, turning her around and drawing her back to his chest. So busy focusing on splashing him that she's caught off guard and he grabs both of her arms, drawing them behind her back and holding onto them as if she's under arrest. A part of her is waiting for him to read her the Miranda rights.

"Are you being kinky?" He's not. She knows he's not, but she's hoping that if he laughs then it'll loosen his hold enough for her to slip away.

"Stop," he chuckles, "splashing me." Her body squirms in his grip.

"Jayyyy," she draws out his name, frustrated at herself for not being able to get free, "let me go."

"Do you promise to stop splashing me?"

"…yes."

He doesn't let go right away. He mentally counts to three and then drops his arm, smirking as she moves out of his embrace and swims off, looking back every few seconds to find him following behind her. He's a faster swimmer than she is, of course, she rolls her eyes because what sport is he not good at? What does he suck at? As his wife, she feels that this is something she should know. The man can sing. The man can write songs. The man can swim. The man can dance. The man can cook. She has definitely hit the husband jackpot if one were to exist. Jay catches up and wraps his arms around her, turning her around and smiling when her legs circle his waist, "Hi my beautiful wife," ever since they got married, he's been extra affectionate, and she's definitely not going to complain about it. Her arms wrap around his neck and her fingers begin to play and twist the short, wet strands of hair at the back of his neck.

"Hi my handsome husband," she whispers before leaning in to press her lips against his.

While they've christened majority of the rooms and surfaces in the bungalow, the one place that he wanted but she refused to have sex is the beach. It's overrated. The idea of it might sound fun and thrilling but the reality of it is definitely the opposite. Erin feels Jay untying the bikini straps that were snugged into a knot behind her neck, "We agreed to no beach sex."

His lips drag along her jawline, never once disconnecting even as he replies, "That's when we were both sexually sated but now I'm turned on and I'm trying to do the same to you." She laughs because he's absolutely insatiable when it comes to thrill.

"…then carry me back into the house and you can have your wicked way with me."

Jay pulls head away and peers up into her eyes, "What about if I carry you over to our beach towels? Lay you down," he leans back in and latches his lips onto her collarbone, "and show you why you made the right decision in accepting my proposal. Wouldn't it be fun to commemorate our marriage on a private beach," he kisses down her chest and her head is thrown back, sighing aloud in pleasure, -she's starting to change her mind, "you know you want to have sex with me."

"I always want to have sex with you," she grips his head and pulls it up and away from her chest; he is not changing her mind about this, "and I will, anywhere besides the beach. There's sand everywhere and I would prefer to not get it everywhere on me and inside of me. And not to mention, if we do it out here who knows what's swimming around us and water is not a lubricant so sex out here will be more of a hassle than something that is pleasurable."

He gets her point. She always has a point when she disagrees with one of his crazy ideas. But, and Jay knows this as well as Erin, he's not thinking with the right head right now. It's up to her to think for the both of them. And because Jay knows she's right, he groans, his head falling forward and landing on her bare chest, "You're right," and even though he can't see her because his face is buried between her breasts, he knows she's smiling, "Ugh, and I want to take you inside and fuck you all through the night but the sun is going to set in a few hours and a Belizean sunset is something that I know you want to see again, especially seaside." He lifts his head.

Erin's forehead falls to rest against his, her eyes are closed and she breathes him in before responding, "How about we christen the porch?"

"It's wood. We'll get splinters."

And Erin laughs when he says that, he sounds a little too worried and it's the first time that he lays out the possible downside to such a thrilling idea, "I know that babe, but I never said anything about us laying down on the floor of the porch. I'm pretty sure our stamina is strong enough to sustain us standing for a round or two."

"…or three." He kisses her.

"You're absolutely insatiable."

"I'm absolutely in love," he corrects.

Spending another few hours divided between lounging on their beach towels, receiving a natural tan from the sun's light and relaxing in each other's arms while their bodies are cooled by the ocean's natural cool temperature, Jay and Erin found that they needed a relaxing day where they didn't do much. After day upon day upon day of exerting themselves in physical activities, it was nice to have a day of just them and their love and their start to forever.

"This has to be paradise," Jay says as he lies back on the towel, hands going behind his head.

She turns, and rolls into his arm, head falling against his bicep as her wet hair slaps against his mouth, "I've yet to go to a place like this, but I think it's more so the company that makes it great. You make it feel like paradise."

"…maybe that can be a line in the next song I write about you? You make it feel like paradise."

"I'm pretty sure if you write another song about me, your band is going to make you go solo."

He shrugs, and it causes her head to shift considering she's laying on him, "maybe that's not so bad? Maybe one day I will go solo?"

"Are you serious?" She sits up and turns her body to face him, "babe, District 21 is your baby."

"Music is my baby and I write and sing and play an instrument, not much will change but I do think it'll come a time where I eventually should move on, go solo."

"In the future?"

He nods, "yeah…in the distant future."

She lays back down, head back resting against his bicep and says, "…then I guess this conversation can continue in the future. It can be saved for another day."

And they're back to lying down and resting under the sunlight, being cautious and mindful not to fall asleep and get sunburnt. But while they spend majority of the afternoon outdoors, they do end up getting a round in on the porch, the two of them standing with Erin bent over the railing and Jay pounding her from behind. His swim shorts fallen to his ankles. Her bikini top somewhere near the front door while her bikini bottoms are loosely hanging from one ankle. That stamina seemed to fail because by round two, they found themselves back in the bedroom, rolling around in the classic manner of missionary sex. But the night doesn't cease there, it ends with them having a candlelit gourmet dinner prepared by Jay on the patio at the front of the bungalow. It's a romantic night filled with idle chitchat, innuendos and suggestive flirts that'll definitely end in that third round, maybe on said patio. At the market, Jay picked up ingredients to prepare seared scallops with brown butter and lemon pan sauce with a side of red potatoes and asparagus. Her man can definitely cook; he knows his way around a kitchen and it's definitely one of the many things on a long list of reasons why she fell in love with him. When dinner is over, their plates are cleared and they relax on the porch swing, her legs folded beneath her as his are planted against the ground, slowly rocking the swing back and forth. With his arm around her, her head resting against his shoulder, they silently watch as the sun starts to set in the darkening sky. Not one star is in sight. There are only colors of orange, red and gold stretching far and wide, resembling a sky of fire blazing above them.

It's romantic.

It's perfect.

It's definitely the way to end another night in Belize.

-x-

Out of all the days they've spent in Belize, this one has been the most eventful so far. Waking up at the crack of dawn just to spend the morning volunteering at an underprivileged school in the heart of Belize City had started their day off just right. To have such a humbling experience while on vacation, while on their honeymoon, proved to be one of the greatest moments of the day; it's practically up there with their last activity of the night. After practically inhaling three cups of coffee in the span of ten hours they had been geared up to finish out the rest of the day without a nap or a moment of silence.

The closest they had come to that was spending a little over an hour at a butterfly farm, which had been one of the most boring and informative experiences of the vacation. Neither of them even knew how they ended up here, but one of the kids at the school recommended it and she couldn't say no and he couldn't go back on his word. So, they came, they paid for a tour, they walked the premises, eyeing different breeds and colors of butterflies, took pictures and then left.

And their day is ending a few hours before sunset at the black hole drop, -the name of it sparking early adrenaline to rush though Jay's body. It was the Mother of All Caves, according to every person they've asked. And this was going to be an experience that Erin knew was worse than the helicopter ride over the blue hole and ziplining. What happened to normal vacation activities like eating, swimming, touring the lands and shopping? This experience might be the moment of a lifetime but it was going to come at the expense of said lifetime not being for much longer. Who even discovered this? Why would someone even want to do this? Why did she agree to this fucking activity?

"This is a serious question," Erin begins, purposely looking up to avoid looking at the long drop below, "what is it with holes in this country? First the blue hole and now the black hole drop? And this hole isn't as beautiful as the blue hole. I'd prefer to go back to that one." Jay has his hand covering his mouth in order to suppress his laughter.

As the tour guide answers her question, Jay takes a look around. After a vigorous hike up into the foothills of the Maya mountains to the mouth of the cave, they stood at the peak of the drop, harnessed up, and patiently waiting, the sounds of the wild life inside of the forest provided him company as his wife sought answers from the staff.

"The hole, it's not really black." The guide placed his hand against her shoulder.

And Erin may not be the smartest person in the world, that's a pretty bold statement to claim, but it's the truth, she's not, and she's aware of that, but even with that said, she's smart enough to call bullshit on his claim, "It is black," she looks back at it, if only briefly to confirm her point, "I know black and that Mr. Ruiz is black," looking over her shoulder she finds Jay tightening his harness, "babe, look," she points over at the hole, "isn't that black?"

"It's black," Jay confirms.

And Mr. Ruiz nods in agreement, only to confuse her even more, "It's not actually black but it's dark enough that you can't see the bottom of the drop. You'll feel better when we get to the bottom. It's well-lit down there by natural light."

"..and how do we get back up?"

"We climb."

Erin sighs, "My upper body strength sucks." She was already filthy and dirty from the hike through mud and leaves, climbing over logs and twigs, moving up rocks and ladders only to get here and find that there's more work that needs to be done before she can actually rest. She's sweating. She's sticky. And Jay wants to wrap his arms around her in an attempt to comfort her more and maybe ease a bit of her fear, but she's too hot for physical contact. He understands.

Mr. Ruiz appears to still be laughing at her comment. She had been so distracted that she didn't even hear him laugh in the beginning. She was too focused on watching the other members of their tour group be harnessed and loaded down into the dark hole. Jay was technically the next to go, but he wouldn't line up until he knew that she was sure about this.

"Erin," Mr. Ruiz says, attempting to catch his breath from laughing so hard, -none of this was funny to her but at least he got some amusement out of it, "it's not a literal climb back up. You'll be harnessed and you'll have the rope to guide you. We'll help you and I'm sure if we can't then your husband can," her eyes meet Jay's and he nods, and she knows if Jay reassures her, then she'll be fine. He moves closer, and screw the temperature because he throws his arm around her shoulders and pulls her against his side.

"Ew, I'm sweaty," she groans when his lips kiss her forehead.

"I don't care."

Jay steps back and circles around to face her completely. He adjusts the helmet on her head, tightening the strap below her chin before leaning forward to kiss her cheek, "I'll go and then wait for you at the bottom. I'll catch you if you fall."

"The drop is around 500 feet in total, maybe more. If she falls, by the time you're aware of it, she'll have already landed."

"Mr. Ruiz," Jay groans, leaning forward, his helmet pressing against hers, "you're not helping."

And he wasn't. But, Erin has done so many activities this week that has taken her out of her comfort zone that she refused to stop now. This was the last one that involved major heights. She could do this. She could get this out of the way especially because of the activities they have planned for their last few days. Erin pulled away, and stepped back to watch quietly as he was hooked and prepared to lower himself into the black hole.

Erin moves to the edge, only to watch him disappear into darkness. And suddenly that fear came back. The website said this was a good way to overcome a fear of heights, that this was safe and the biggest obstacle isn't the physical aspect but the psychological and now Erin can completely understand exactly why that is. She feels nauseous. She looks to Mr. Ruiz, seeking his comfort since Jay was no longer above ground.

"How long have you done this?"

Mr. Ruiz silently adds up the years, "I've been doing this for five years. Trained by my own father. I make over 50 trips up and down the black drop a year. You're safe Erin. No one has ever gotten hurt on my watch." She hates to be that person, the problem child so to say, but she honestly cannot help it. She's scared. Terrified really. It's a fear. And she has been unintentionally trying to battle this fear of heights since Jay's birthday. Just think of your biggest fear and imagine suddenly being face to face with it, back to back.

"I trust you," she whispers. Her eyes remain trained on the hole, half expecting if she squints hard enough she'll see Jay in the darkness.

"That means a lot ma'am," Mr. Ruiz proclaims gently; he makes eye contact with his partner who nods that he'll go down next, leaving the two of them alone, "but we are prepared for any and all occasions, so even if something goes wrong, which it won't, we're ready."

She hiked for over an hour just to get to a sinkhole and have to lower herself down a 500 foot drop. Adrenaline has a way of making everything go by faster. It's her turn next. Mr. Ruiz takes extra care in making sure that every harness, every hook and strap is tightly firm and locked.

"You're going to rappel the first 20 feet, it'll give you a huge adrenaline rush, trust me, you'll love it," he guides her, leading her over to the edge, "then you'll dangle over the pit and from there you'll lower yourself into the sinkhole, well, my partner will, the one who went down first." It was three of them. The partner he is referring to had gone down before any of the group followed. This must have been why.

Rappelling the first 20 feet did provide that sudden burst of adrenaline, it was one that during the moment she didn't care for but afterwards realized it wasn't that bad. When Ruiz's partner begins to load her down the next part of the drop, she has her eyes closed for majority of it. Every once in a while she'll open them but she'll always end up looking down and it'll make her panic. She can't panic. Not when she's hundreds of feet above the ground. So, to play it safe, she keeps her eyes closed until she feels her feet touch the hard surface and arms wrap around her waist, "I'm so proud of you," he peppers her face with kisses. And Mr. Ruiz's third partner unstraps the rope from her harness.

She's out of breath even though she barely did anything during the drop, "Your expectations are too high," she jokes, "if it takes me doing stuff like this to make you proud, I don't know what to tell you." He knows she's joking and he kisses her to silence her words.

Erin makes a noise in the back of her throat, but the kissing doesn't stop, there's more and it almost feels like he's trying to breathe her in. His hands are at her waist, squeezing her thin frame and even though all of their tour guides are together, they don't stop.

"Now that I'm down here," she whispers, letting her forehead rest against his, "it's not as bad," and that's how she's basically felt about every experience that involved her battling her fear of heights. He squeezes her hips and smiles when her hair brushes against his lips, "I knew you would enjoy it. You see where coming out of your comfort zone gets you."

"…besides a heart attack."

With the helmet on her head, Jay can just make out her slightly timid smile, eyes wider than normal and she turns her face into his palm once he rests it against her cheek, "…yeah, besides a heart attack," he whispers because it does feel like his heart is going to explode. But, that's not a heart attack, he's not a doctor, far from one actually, but he's pretty sure an explosion of the heart is probably classified as something else.

She sighs, scrunching her nose, "You better not be making fun of me, Jay." And he nuzzles his face into the crook of her neck, his helmet and her helmet making the move awkward, "Would I do something like that baby," he snickers and presses a kiss to her collarbone. The guide, based on the voice its Mr. Ruiz talking and he shouldn't be distracting her, but he does by continuing his assault of kisses, "I would never risk upsetting my beautiful wife by doing that."

She's in his arms. She's laughing. And the people around them are wandering the cave, taking pictures and branching out into some of the darker territory. Mr. Ruiz was right; it was lighter down here, more than she expected, but it was still a cave in nature and Erin would remain cautious. Erin allows him to press another kiss against her collarbone before she steps out of his embrace and takes his hand, "Help me get this harness off and then let's take some pictures. My mom is not going to believe I did this."

Ending the activity with dinner inside the black hole on a natural rock table, an exploration of the inside of the sinkhole, an assisted climb up with Jay and Ruiz guiding her, a hike back through the forest to the visitor's center and a brief stop in the gift shop. Going up was definitely more nerve-wrecking than going down, probably because she was moving higher and every second that passed, the higher she would get above ground. It was the last activity that involved heights and she managed to survive and come out on top. She was proud of herself.

Jay unlocks the front door to their bungalow and looks back to let her enter first, "You know if I died on one of these excursions of yours that you roped me into, my dad would kill you."

"Yeah, well, I'd probably let him," he follows behind her, shutting and locking the door after they enter.

-x-

Erin tugged upon the bottom of the too-tight khaki shorts as she followed the tour guide and their group up the steep incline of the Xunantunich Mayan Ruins. It was hard to keep up, with the way her shorts gave no stretch, she was forced to keep stopping in order to bend her legs, squat and try to stretch them herself. It was a mistake to buy these shorts but they looked so cute and they matched perfectly with the beige tank top and the dark brown safari boots. She couldn't resist the purchase but at the same time, she didn't expect to be trekking through the Xunantunich ruins because now, unfortunately, she realizes that these shorts are more for fashion than comfort.

"…ugh," she groans. A part of her wants to say fuck it and just rip them off but she's the recently re-elected president's daughter and the last thing her dad needs is a scandal.

Jay must hear her grunts and groans of frustration because he finally realizes that she isn't beside him; she isn't with the group. He stops, looks back and raises his sunglasses to sit on the top of his head. He's grinning at her, obviously finding her discomfort amusing. She finally gets the pants just right, even though she knows that by walking they're going to tighten and shift again but she can't have her way right now and after this exploration it's dinner and then back to their bungalow. She can deal with it for a few more hours.

As she resumes her walk to catch up with the group, he has his hand extended out towards her, waiting patiently for her to grab it in order to assist her climbing up the large rock that's somehow blocking the pathway to reach the top. Once she steps up, his arm is around her shoulders and the two of them move to catch up with the group, "So, what was that back there?"

She was hoping he wouldn't bring it up, "Ugh, these damn shorts keep giving me a wedgie."

"I told you not to get those shorts."

She rolls her eyes, "I knew you were going to say I told you so."

"All I'm saying is comfort over function," he kisses the top of her head before pulling his shades back down and focusing on the sights around him as their tour guide provides historic facts about the ancient ruins. By the time they reached the top –or at least as far up as the tour guide was willing to take them- Jay moved to stand behind his wife, wrapping his arms around her and resting his head upon her shoulder as the tour guide spewed information in his thick accent.

While Jay has his arms wrapped around her waist, she's holding up her cell phone, capturing photos of their surroundings, "Xunantunich in the Mayan language means "Sculpture of Lady" or "Stone Lady,"" their tour guide informs them, and now the facts were starting to become repetitive because he had said the same thing before they climbed out of the jeep. That left Jay and Erin to explore amongst themselves, -only with the added supervision of their guards.

-x-

It's hard to believe that in only a few days they'll be heading back to the states, back to reality, back home. If it was possible to freeze time, or at least slow it down, then now would be a good time for it to happen. Erin's hand rests in his grip and he squeezes it, pulling her attention away from the intricate details on the umbrella inside of her Pina colada.

"What are you thinking about?"

He looks over at her, the shades shielding his eyes from the sunlight glowing behind her, creating a halo around her being, "I would love if time were to simply slow down."

All of their adventures, activities, explorations and experiences were slowly coming to an end and neither of them was ready to say goodbye. Not now, but in two days, they'll be returning back to America, back to responsibilities and expectations, back to their friends, back to their family, back to the paparazzi and overwhelming fans. There would be no beach in their backyard, there would be no more break from the paparazzi and fans and there would be no freedom to just separate themselves from the guards assigned to them. To go back to reality meant a lot and neither of them were ready for it to start.

With the shades covering her eyes and her body relaxing inside the inflatable, pool tube, feet dangling over the edge while she periodically takes sips of her Pina colada near a bar that's stationed in the center of the large pool. She observes the frown lines on his forehead, the slight pout lining his lips and the empty glass in his free hand, "You need another drink. A refill."

"I'm fine," he continues to float in his tube, but he's holding her hand to ensure their tubes do not float in opposite directions, "I'm just enjoying the moment. I don't need a drink to do that."

He feels her bring his hand up to her mouth, brushing her lips against his knuckles before whispering, "I wish time would slow down too." He looks over at her, unable to meet her eyes because of their sunglasses, but she's going back to his earlier point, and he smiles at that.

"What if we stay another week?"

"…we can't," and he already knows that but it was worth a shot to ask.

"I know," he sighs. The real world awaits them.

She takes another sip of her drink and then tilts her head back, allowing the ends to fall into the pool, "You have a bruise behind your shoulder."

No matter how he tries to look, there's no way for him to see it, but she pulls her hand out of his and then brushes it along the back of his shoulder. If he had to guess where it came from, he would say from their ATM cave tour; it was an activity that both of them agreed to and enjoyed despite the adventure and adrenaline rush it caused them.

"Does it hurt?"

"Nah, it's fine," he brushes it off, not wanting her to worry about him more than necessary, "it'll be gone in a couple of days. It probably happened when we swam inside the cave. I told you I backed into one of the boulders."

"…at least it didn't cut your skin."

"Right," he reaches for her glass and helps himself to a sip of her drink, "I wouldn't want to swim inside of a cave with an open wound on me."

"You said you didn't want a refill," she tries to grab her drink back but the floatation device she's relaxing on shakes and she doesn't want to fall out of the donut tube, "that's my drink. I told you to get another one."

"…but yours taste so much better." He purposely draws in a large gulp of her beverage.

"You owe me another drink."

Carefully, he leans forward and gets out of the tube, his feet touching the pool ground as his donut tube floats away. He holds her drink above water to ensure nothing got into it as he moves to her side, grabbing the floatation device she's floating on and spinning it around until she starts to laugh and push him away, "You're not going to distract me from the fact that you took my drink even though you said from your own mouth that you didn't want another one."

He takes another sip.

"Are you even listening to me right now?"

"Always," he says; the straw still in his mouth.

"Yet you're still drinking my drink." And then after a large sip, he hands it back, "You have got to be fucking kidding me right now."

"…so now you don't want it back."

"It's yours now," she pushes it away, laughing, "I want another one. A new one, preferably one you didn't drink from."

"…and here I thought you loved the taste of my lips."

"I do," she nods, a bit overeagerly, "but that's not what we're debating about. We're debating about you leaving me like one sip of my Pina colada when I practically had a full glass."

Jay halfway spins the floatation device around once more so her face is near his, and he leans forward to kiss her, brushing his lips over hers before reluctantly pulling away. She's breathless despite the kiss not lasting long. And she dips her head back, allowing the pool water to cool off the top of her head as he carries both empty glasses back over to the bar. A smile graces her face when she hears him put in an order for two refills and then directing the wait staff to start a tab and keep the drinks coming.

-x-

Pushing her legs apart, he grinded against her while he devoured her mouth with his tongue, her bare back pressed against the glass, dining room table as her fingers traced over his ass and she pulls him closer, positioning himself before gazing into her eyes as he pushed himself inside of her, slowly stretching her wide, savoring the feel of sliding inside of her inch by inch. The second he was balls deep inside of her, her eyes shut closed, "Baby," he grunted, withholding the urge to frantically move in and out of her.

"…yes," she whispered.

"I need you to open your eyes. I want you to look at me. Look at what I do to you." he rasped, thrusting slowly in and out of her as his hands grip her hipbones tighter, nails digging into her flesh and leaving crescent shaped impressions in her skin.

Her eyes opened, drawn to his, connecting with his under the rising sun outside of their beach bungalow. He maintained the rhythm, pushing in and slowly pulling out, all the while he watches her, eyes focused onto her own. With each push, her breath would hitch and with every pull, her eyes would widen. He picked up his pace, plunging hard into her until she felt forced to yelp and yearn under his mouth the second he latches his lips onto hers. As she got closer and closer to her release, her legs managed to tighten even more around his waist. And the moment their built up passion reached its climax, his eyes shut, her back arched and their silent moans were suppressed by the way his lips pressed against hers in an intensely, heated kiss. He kept thrusting into her, prolonging their orgasm and riding the pleasure waves for as long as possible, "God woman," he buried his face into the crook of her neck, "God baby," he pressed his lips against her sweaty neck, "I just love you so much."

And she responds with a soft and sated smile as her fingers intertwine with the hair at the back of his neck, "I love you too, Jay." She wrapped both of her arms around him as his face nuzzled in between her bosom. He relaxed, slumped forward, his soft member falling out of her with the movement. It was still early, early enough for them to rest before packing up their luggage so when he wraps his arms around her and stands up, planting his hands beneath her thighs to keep her upright as he walks to their bedroom, he isn't surprised when she rests her head upon his shoulder and tenderly glides her lips along his skin.

Gently, he lays her down on the bed, kisses her forehead and tucks her in before crawling in, spooning her from behind and sighing softly as he peacefully listens to the soothing sounds of their breath. They lay for what seems like a lifetime with the looming reminder that they're leaving tomorrow morning and their honeymoon is coming to an end. It's no surprise when the two of them doze off moments later but what does surprise him is when he wakes up to find his arm resting on the mattress, no warm body beneath it. His eyes remain closed but he slides his hand around the bed, thinking maybe she rolled out from under him.

"I need you to keep still please."

And when he hears her voice, her casual reprimand he slowly opens his eyes, scanning his surroundings to find her with a canvas, a few colors of paint and a brush, "What are you doing?"

"I'm painting you," she casually answers, "I don't have as many colors as I've had in the class and I don't have as many brushes but I can make do. I'm not the next Picasso, far from it but it's not like I'm selling this or anything." There's soft music playing in the background. It's definitely setting a mood but he needs her back in bed for him to follow through on the mood that's being set.

"Can I see?"

"…in a second," she holds up a finger, bites down on her lip and does the finishing touches, "okay, I didn't paint your man parts because I needed a visual and the sheet was covering it."

He sits up and the sheet shifts, "You could have moved it."

"…while you were asleep," she shakes her head and sets the paintbrush into the glass of water to soak, "that's creepy. And I kind of want to hang this up somewhere so I don't mind as much that your parts are covered. I don't need anyone knowing the tools that you're working with…"

"…and where are you going to hang it up?"

"In my home office," she answers almost immediately; she must have been thinking about this for some time. And she has. For sure.

Jay stretches and walks around the bed to take a look over her shoulder. And she was right, she was far from a professional artist but as the considerate husband that he is, he wasn't going to say that, "It's beautiful."

"You're such a liar," she laughs.

"Come on," he rubs her shoulder before taking the small painting from her hand and leaning it against the wall to dry, "let's go another round in the Jacuzzi bathtub and then start packing."

-x-

To be home, to walk through the front door of their home, dropping their bags in the walkway and dropping to their knees to welcome Nico into their opened arms felt good despite the lack of palm trees, solitude and a beach being nearby.

It felt so good to be home again.

Erin rubs the top of Nico's head and welcomes the kisses her pup loves to give her when she's gone for such a long time. He can barely keep still. He doesn't know what to do. He starts to run in circles, he starts to roll over onto his back and then he starts to bounce his leg as Erin starts to rub his stomach, "Were you a good boy? Were you a good boy, Nico?"

"I think you're dog gave me puppy fever," Justin says as he carries his suitcase down their front stairs, "We bonded and now I have to say goodbye." He comes over and joins Erin on the ground to assist in rubbing Nico's stomach; giving the dog so much attention that he doesn't know what to do with it. Nico loves it. His leg is shaking faster. His tongue is hanging outside of his mouth.

Justin house-sat for them. He also, technically, babysat their dog for them. Their plants were still alive. Their house wasn't burnt to the ground. Everything still seems to be in place. Jay checked, technically twice, but he would argue against it, before paying Justin for a job well done.

"I missed you guys. Welcome back," he rose to his feet. Erin remained on the floor. She didn't want to come home but now that she's home, she's happy. She really missed Nico.

"…thanks," Jay pat his back, resting his hand over his brother-in-law's shoulder, "if you ever need a vacation, I suggest Belize. It's absolutely beautiful. We'll even give you the information on the bungalow we stayed in."

"Yeah, thanks for the Belize recommendation but no thanks for the bungalow, I'd prefer not to stay in the same place my sister and brother-in-law stayed in for their honeymoon."

Erin slowly nodded, even though her eyes remained on Nico, "Yeah, that's smart of you." Nico rose to his feet, suddenly tired of the belly rub, and took off to grab his toy with his mouth and bring it over to Erin. She remained on the floor, but now she's sitting with her legs spread wide.

"Oh, mom came over this morning," Justin pulled out his keys, it's obvious he's preparing to leave, "she knew you guys were coming back into town. She stocked your fridge up with food."

"…cooked?"

Justin gives his sister a look, one that tells her that she already knows the answer to that question. It's cooked. A bunch of their favorites is cooked and stored in their kitchen.

"I love that woman."

Jay nods in agreement, "I definitely hit the mother-in-law jackpot."

This time Justin slams his hand against Jay's back, "…give it a year or two and then tell me if you feel the say way."

"Justin shut up," Erin rolls her eyes and tosses the dog toy across the foyer, "don't talk about my mother. I'm not above telling her what you said."

"…you wouldn't do that. I did you a favor and watched your house."

"It's not like you did it for free."

"Ugh, it was so peaceful when you guys were away."

"If we could have stayed away longer, trust me, we would have."

"Why didn't you? I thought you and Jay were taking a year off. No making music for him and no taking cases and working for you."

Erin groans in frustration, because she had this conversation with him before and it's obvious that he didn't listen, "Yeah, I said I'm starting once I close all my active, open cases. You don't listen to me at all. I swear."

"…maybe if you said things that were more interesting then I would."

Jay is looking between them, head going side to side as if he's watching a tennis match. As a guy, with a brother he understands. He's no only child so he completely gets the back and forth, he's just grateful that his brother is states away and not here to irritate him. Jay enjoys it though, well he enjoys it because it's not him. He finds himself taking a seat on the ground, taking the toy from Nico's mouth and then throwing it as their large house is filled with the bickering back and forth of the Voight siblings, members of America's first family that the public is not afforded the opportunity of ever witnessing.


	58. Montage

With over a year of marriage under their belt, with homes in Maryland and Illinois, with two successful careers and a dog that's growing at such a rapid rate, it honestly doesn't feel like there is enough time in the day. It's all going by so fast and there's no way to keep up with time. After their year long hiatus from work and responsibilities, a year of living together as a married couple, a year of shared finances and bank accounts and a year of enjoying life and mapping out a little of their future, they're back to reality.

Jay is writing music, attending and performing awards shows and making public appearances at fashion events. Apparently Mr. Halstead is a little fashionista, as Erin likes to call him even though he absolutely hates the term. He doesn't see it. A black, leather jacket, a white v-neck and jeans is his signature look but apparently the world considers that high fashion. He doesn't see it and he probably never will but Erin says it's more so the man in the outfit that makes it high fashion rather than the actual outfit itself and he understands that more. He truly couldn't understand designers paying him money to wear their clothing; he gets money to throw on their outfits when he's about to run errands just to be photographed by paparazzi.

It's ridiculous.

His net worth, combined with his wife's net worth, is fucking ridiculous. In a good way, of course.

Erin is back at work, deciding that she wants to continue being a lawyer, at least for the nearby future, maybe until she has babies. Definitely until she has babies. After she has babies then she'll decide again what to do, but until then, she'll enjoy the business of law and order.

In her year-long break, she did a lot of self-examination, she did enough to know that while she loves being a lawyer, she loves helping the underdog, she doesn't want to do it for the rest of her life. She wants to help more people, reach out to more people and being a lawyer limits that for her. Since she's still in law, they remained living in DC and only chose to purchase a home in Illinois because they spend the most time traveling back and forth between the two places and Mills recently opened up another firm in Chicago so she's able to still work when she's away from home.

That year-long break had gone by too fast.

And now they were back to the real world, to reality and the everyday task of working. But, fortunately, now the day was close to being over.

"Honey, I'm home," Erin walks inside, kicking the door shut behind her, before dropping her keys into the glass bowl positioned on the table to the left of the door. She holds a stack of mail, majority of them bills, in her hand. As she sorts through the mail, she kicks off her heels, knowing that she'll probably have to hear her husband's grunts and groans about it later but for right now she doesn't care, she'll move them eventually, but she's tired right now and her feet hurt and her neck has a crook in it from being hunched over all day. Ugh. It's already been a long and tiresome week and it's only Monday.

Now that she's back to work, she's ready to go on another long hiatus again.

"Babe," she calls out; he's been home all day and she truly hopes that he either cooked dinner or ordered something for them to eat, "I'm hungry." She sounds like a child, whining but the way her stomach is set up and growling at her, she feels like she has no choice but to assert her complaints.

Not once does Jay respond though.

She knows he's home. His car was in the garage and his two assigned guards were positioned outside.

"Babe," she calls out again and is still met with silence, "Jay," she shouts even louder only causing for Nico to run towards her, "Nico where's Jay? Where's Jay?" Her dog's tail wags and he turns on his heel before running off. She follows after him, trying to keep up but struggling because he's so fast and her feet hurt so much. Maybe her husband will give her a foot massage?

Nico runs up to the closed door of his office, the place where he writes and practices his music. The door is closed and Nico is forced to scratch his paw against the door, "Jay," she grabs the knob and it's locked and she's forced to knock, "Jay, it's me, it's Erin," and she's pretty sure he knows who she is without her even having to say it but she does anyway.

It's not long, only seconds to be honest, for the door to open up, revealing her husband's appearance: his face glowering, his mouth pressed into a thin, firm line and his muscles bulging more than normal. He's angry. Pissed.

She swallows and peers up into his eyes, "What's wrong?"

Jay pulls her into the room after grabbing her wrist and yanking her forward. The door shuts behind her before Nico has a chance to enter, leaving the dog in the hallway scratching against the door, "I just got off the phone with Will."

"…and?" She watches him turn around and walk back towards his desk, flopping down into his desk chair and throwing his head back.

"Tanya left my dad."

"You're kidding?"

He lifts his head and shakes it, "I wish I was. While my dad was at the store, she left. She's been gone for weeks and this morning divorce papers showed up."

"…and you're upset about this?"

"YES," he shouts, fist slamming down onto his wooden desk, "This happened weeks ago and I'm only finding out about it today! I fucking warned my father about this! I knew this was going to happen but he wouldn't listen! He never fucking listens to me!"

Erin leans against the edge of the desk, the pain in her feet and neck forgotten because she has more prominent things to worry about, "…what is she asking for in the divorce?"

"She wants money," he says and Erin waits because she knows there's more, "and she wants to keep the ring. The ring, Erin, the fucking ring that she should have never gotten in the first place!" She gets up and moves towards him to take a seat on his lap and wrap her arms around his neck as he continued, "I told them. No one listened, Er."

"I know," she whispers as she plays with the strands at the back of his neck. He needs to vent and she lets him.

"Will is hiring a lawyer for him," he says through gritted teeth, his fingers digging into her waist as he holds onto her as tightly as possible, "and I'm torn about this because I want that ring back but at the second time I don't care if he loses everything else. He deserves it. This is his karma; this is the energy he puts out into the world. I want him to lose but not at the expense of me never seeing that ring again." His head falls forward and is cradled against her chest as she tightens her arms around him, holding him so close in an effort to ease his pain.

-x-

Moments in life have a way of going by slow and fast at the same time. It's odd when you think about it for too long but it's true. She was in Chicago for the week to oversee the operations at the new firm Mills had opened up in Illinois and fortunately her schedule for being in Chicago synced up with her husband's need to return to their home city. The two of them didn't like being away from each other for too long so thank the heavens that they haven't had to be separated.

…even though they say absence makes the heart grow fonder.

And even if you're married, you would prefer a little space. Sometimes.

Erin tried to insert the wrong key into the bottom lock of her Chicago home. It was different than their Maryland home, it was bigger and the gated community it resided in was topnotch. She didn't know which home she liked more but they both held a different place in her heart. Her key ring is heavier than it has ever been. She wasn't used to having more than two keys to her home –typically to the top and bottom lock. Now she had more than she feels like counting. She had keys to back doors; she had keys to top and bottom locks and even keys to garage doors. And those were just the keys that belong to her homes, none of them compared to the amount of keys she had for work. But before she could dwell on that for too long, the front door is opened.

"We have too many damn locks," she grunted, pushing her way inside.

"It's the downside of owning property," he replied, shutting the door behind her, "I ordered out for dinner. I didn't feel like making food. It just got here a few minutes before you arrived so it should still be hot. I haven't eaten yet. I was waiting for you."

She kicked off her heels and set them on the shoe rack, knowing how anal her husband is and how most of their arguments center on her being untidy, she decides to spare them of that conversation for the night. That is, until she walks into the kitchen.

"I thought you said you were going to take the trash out this morning." Today is garbage day.

He moves to the cabinet above the sink, "I overslept." He grabbed two plates.

"I woke you up before I left and said Jay don't forget to take the trash out."

"…and then I dozed back off." He set the plates down before taking his seat.

Erin was leaning back against the kitchen counter, ankles crossed and arms crossed with her head tilted to the side, "The trash is overfilling."

"I'll take it out once we're done eating."

"…but garbage was picked up today."

He shrugs, "They'll just get it next week then." And she blinks slowly, once, twice and then a third time before responding, "If the situation was reversed I wouldn't hear the end of it."

"That's not true," he argues, reaching into the bags to start pulling out the Tupperware full of the food he ordered. He couldn't decide so he got a bit of all of their favorites from the Thai spot around the corner.

"It is true," she simply states and they both know it, "I leave a towel on the floor and it's World War three with you but you slip up and what….nothing. You need to hold yourself to the same standard that you hold me."

"Are you really trying to argue about this right now?"

"I'm trying to prove a point."

"You're a lawyer. You've been proving points all day, aren't you tired by now?"

She doesn't respond. She has to deal with people at work and now she has to deal with her husband at home. Silently, she leaves the kitchen, hearing him call out from behind, "Erin, you forgot to eat." She didn't forget. And she may be hungry but her anger and annoyance takes away her appetite, "I'm not hungry."

Erin climbs the stairs, Nico at her feet, desperately either wanting to play or get a belly rub but she's too upset to figure out which one. With every step she takes down the hallway, she unbuttons her blouse, purposely tossing it to the side before unzipping her skirt and stepping out of it, leaving it on the ground. She removes her stockings, she unclasps her bra and then she goes to retrieve a shirt from the dresser, not giving the articles of clothing she left strewn around a second thought. It may be petty but she never claimed to be a saint.

She pulled the covers back on the bed, grabbed the remote and climbed into it. After turning on the television and channel surfing she decides on watching the news coverage of the summit in Canada that her father is attending. She's not really paying attention and if anyone were to ask her to summarize what the journalist had just said then she'd be at a loss. She's too consumed in her thoughts; too busy replaying the argument between her and Jay to focus. But when she hears the bedroom door creak open, she finds herself purposely trying to appear like she's entertained by the footage on the TV, "Are you actually mad at me about not taking the trash out?"

"Yes."

"…and there's no way I can bribe you for your forgiveness?"

Silently, she shakes her head.

"…not even with food," he holds up two plates, -one for him and one for her.

She wants to say no but her stomach betrays her and growls. And before she can give an answer, he's walking over, extending one plate to her as he balances the other plate, "What are we watching?" He's acting as if the argument had never even happened.

"Seriously? We're not even going to talk about it?"

"What is there to talk about?"

A slow inhale and exhale is what Erin does to calm herself. She needs to eat, that'll help calm her too. She takes a bite and then another while processing her thoughts and then speaking, "If you're going to be mad at me every time something isn't spotless then you should probably make sure that you're not being hypocritical about it."

"Er…I honestly forgot and overslept. It was no malice intent behind it."

"I believe you," she does, "but you have to see where I'm coming from. It doesn't feel good to be reprimanded when something isn't done." He gets it.

"I know. And I'm trying. My old home had a housekeeper who came in to make sure everything stayed spotless and I'm so used to that. I like that."

"…then hire a housekeeper because I'm not one and the last thing I feel like coming home to do is clean."

"I get that," he nodded, "I noticed that." He looks around the bedroom making it obvious what he's referencing and that makes her smile. He grins too.

Erin takes another bite of her food, "If it causes you so much anxiety then feel free to pick it up."

"I uh…it can…it can stay," he resumes eating, trying any and everything not to look at the mess around their bedroom. It's not much. It's only a few articles of clothing but that's how it always starts. It always starts with a little junk before doubling and then tripling. "I don't mind it. It uh…it actually gives the place character."

And that makes Erin laugh; the essence of their argument long gone with how hearty her laughter is with the way the sound fills their bedroom. She sets her fork down and looks over at her husband, "Babe, I'll pick it up once you take the trash out." He reaches for her plate, being careful not to move too fast since his plate is balanced on his lap. She's confused by the action until he says, "I'm just trying to make it as easy as possible for you to get up to get your clothes. I took the trash out before I came upstairs." And this time it's his laughter that's filling their bedroom as she gets out of bed to throw her clothes into the hamper.

-x-

It's dark in their bedroom. Both of them are naked and out of breath as their backs lie against the silk sheets on their mattress. Her chest rises and then falls with every breath she tries to catch.

And Jay expects for her to fall asleep. It's been too quiet in their bedroom that it's not surprising for him to think that she fell asleep, but when she speaks, he's suddenly caught off guard by her being awake and by what she says, "Do you remember when I said that I would tell you when I'm ready to start trying for kids?" She rolls onto her side, tucking herself in his embrace.

His hand gently caresses her back, "Yeah."

"…well I'm ready," she whispers and he immediately looks down to catch her gaze, "I want to have a baby. I want to grow our family and I'm ready to start trying. But no pressure. I want us both to be ready so if you're-" And before she can finish her statement, he's kissing her. His hands are pulling at her clothing because once he got the green light; he was ready to start trying.

And try they did. Multiple times. Throughout the night. Because as the saying goes, practice makes perfect. And since technically she hasn't stopped taking her birth control, he knows that these tries are pretty much pointless but there's no amount of preparation one can have to be truly skilled in the art of baby making.

-x-

Erin is brushing her teeth at her sink in the bathroom when the door is opened and Jay walks in, dragging his feet as he drops his pajama pants and lifts the toilet lid, "Seriously," she grumbles around a mouthful of toothpaste, "You're going to pee while I'm brushing my teeth."

"It's not the first time," he yawns as he relieves himself, "and it won't be the last."

"I was almost finished," she rinses off her toothbrush before cupping her hands, leaning forward and bringing water up to her mouth to gargle and then spit out, "I said give me like five minutes and then the bathroom would be all yours."

He flushed the toilet. He moved towards his sink, bumping his hip against hers before washing his hands. Erin doesn't know if it's a perk of marriage or not but the fact that there seems to be no boundaries or privacy between the two of them is interesting. She's not exactly sure how she feels about it, but the moment Jay slaps his wet hand against her behind, dampening up the back of her skirt, she grows frustrated "You are determined to annoy me this morning, aren't you?"

Jay smirked and leaned forward to kiss the corner of her mouth, "You love me."

"That wasn't up for debate," she turned around and wrapped her arm around his bare waist, "The debate is whether or not you woke up this early just to annoy me."

"I woke up this early because I had to pee."

"…and now that you're done?"

"I'm going back to sleep," he kisses her again before backing out of her embrace, "kick ass today babe, those college kids won't recognize greatness until you walk into the room."

She's giving a graduation speech at American University today. And she's going to nail it.

"I'm basically a professional at giving speeches now," she jokes and he knows it's the truth, she is, it's okay to be confident and admit it without making it seem like you're joking.

"…and as a reward, I'll be energized and waiting up for you by the time you get home to resume our baby making activities."

She kisses him because she loves the sound of that. And with that thought on her mind, she blanks out for a few seconds during her speech, long enough for people who know her to notice but not long enough for anyone in the stands watching her to pick up on it. He's on her mind so the second she finishes, she's invited to stay after to celebrate but she decides against it because there's a handsome man patiently waiting at home for her.

-x-

It's a manual reel lawn mower and those words meant absolutely nothing to him until the store clerk explained them, and when Jay purchased it from Home Depot, it came highly recommended from the store clerk because apparently it's an environmentally friendly option for decent-sized lawns. It's supposed to be an easy push, a quick job, come outside, mow the lawn and then be done.

But, Jay should have brought in photos of his lawn because the way the store clerk described a 'decent size' lawn had him thinking his own lawn matched that description. He was wrong though. Or maybe the store clerk was wrong and the term 'decent size' wasn't the right choice of words for him to use. He should have said small-scale or something along those lines. Because with the manual reel lawn mower, he has to push it and at this rate, he'll be out here all day.

His front lawn was small enough to finish mowing in an hour, but the backyard, whew, the backyard he's tempted to hire someone to do it for them. Pay them whatever they want. Literally, whatever they want. Any number. Because it's too fucking hot and this is getting ridiculous. It honestly feels like the more of his lawn he cuts, the more his lawn starts to expand.

And he's wearing a white tank top; it's absolutely soaked because he's sweating through it. It's drenched.

And he's being bit by mosquitoes. No amount of repellent have turned them away. His legs are about two different shades, -red from the bites and a little tan from the sun.

His only saving grace is his angel who happens to currently be walking towards him, balancing two glasses in the crook of her arm and a pitcher of freshly squeezed lemonade. As always, she has perfect timing because it was about time for him to take a break.

"You've made a lot of progress babe," Erin says as he grabs both of the empty glasses, "I figured you were due for a break."

"Did you finish the laundry?"

She nods as she starts to pour lemonade into their glasses, "Laundry washed, dried, folded and put away. How long do you think you have left out here?"

He practically guzzles down the entire glass before holding it out for a refill, "um... probably about another two hours...maybe three."

"Seriously?"

"Babe, look at how fucking huge this yard is."

"I'm ovulating though. You can be done for the day."

"It's a bit uneven. Half of the backyard is mowed and the other half isn't."

"We'll hire someone."

"You've been pressing me about cutting the grass this whole week."

"And now I'm changing my mind and pressuring you to put a baby in me. Come on babe, fuck this lawn," she waves it off with her free hand, "it's baby making time."

-x-

She's not pregnant even though they've spent weeks trying. She's not pregnant. And it doesn't hurt her feelings until it does. If that makes sense…

She wears a fake smile. It's been a permanent fixture on her face after the first month of trying.

He sees through it though. He always does and he never calls her out on it because he's hurt every time the test is negative too so he cannot imagine how it feels for her.

He tries to be supportive, "It'll happen when it's time," and she always nods when he says it, but she's starting to not believe it, and she knows that Ruzek and Burgess have recently been looking into becoming foster parents and Kim has spent more time bringing it up to her that she's starting to wonder if her friends know about her difficulty getting pregnant.

But, she doesn't want to foster. She wants to parent. She wants to have a baby of her own.

Even as their anniversary passes, there's no gift that he could give her that removes the fake smile off her face. The vacation to Saint Lucia doesn't take her mind off of it. His anniversary present to her didn't take her mind off of it. And when she gives him his anniversary present, the gift of his mother's ring that she managed to get from Tanya by providing the woman a monetary reward she couldn't refuse, the smile on his face, the shock and the appreciation doesn't take her mind off of it.

He tells her that he loves her a lot, but he does it even more after the next negative test. He buys her gifts as if that'll make up for it. He prints out the form to become foster parents as if that'll take away the sting, he constantly tells her that if it's meant then it'll be. He writes a song about witnessing the happiness leave his wife's face and being unable to do anything about it. And with her permission he releases it with only him on the track, no band to assist in his backup vocals because it's personal, his band is not involved. He doesn't mention the reason for her sadness in the song which she appreciates but the melody does help her in some way. And he sticks by her side, he's always there to hold her, to sit with her as she takes a test, to stand with her during visits to her doctor's office only to hear that everything is functioning properly.

It doesn't feel like it is though. If everything was working right then she should be pregnant.

She tries to remember the doctor's words after every disappointing test.

But after every negative pregnancy test, her heart breaks more and more and he's always there to pick up the pieces. He comforts her. He kisses her. He knows that she still takes pregnancy tests, even without him at her side because she wants to spare him the pain and heartbreak and while he would love to join her, he understands her hesitance. She tries to hide the hurt, she tries to act as if it no longer bothers her, but he knows her too well. He can always tell when she takes a pregnancy test even when she doesn't verbally tell him. And he always has the same response, he always whispers, time and time again that, "It'll happen when it's supposed to happen."

-x-

And now, it's supposed to happen…

Jay squints as he takes a step closer to get a better look. It's a toy, and when she shakes it, he knows that it's a rattle. He knows what it is but it doesn't stop him from asking, "What is it?"

She shakes it again and his eyes grow round and his heart skips a few beats, "It's a rattle."

"…Erin," he gasps, voice below a whisper and she barely hears it. He doesn't want to assume.

"We're going to need it in a couple of months."

After everything, after all the time, the heartbreak, the doctor's visits, after all of it, she feels a genuine smile become the new permanent fixture on her face. His hands are shaking. He's overwhelmed with emotion because they deserve this, she deserves this.

His jaw slackens, and he's never seen someone so beautiful, so amazing in his life as he takes in the sight of her, his wife, his baby's mother, practically glowing under the fluorescent light. The rattle remains in her hand and he carefully takes it from her, holding it in his grip as if it was precious cargo. It felt like it was; it's a Victorian style, sterling silver rattle with a spinning floral patterned filigree ball. It's absolutely gorgeous and pristine and he actually doesn't know how much use a baby could get out of it.

His stunned gaze darts from the rattle and towards her stomach before fixing back on her face.

"Is…is that alright? Are you…are you alright with that?" Worry creeps across her brow.

Her words manage to restore his ability to speak. He hadn't even realized he lost it.

"You're pregnant aren't you?" That was a pretty dumb question but his thoughts are buffering while his mouth is ready to speak. He's overwhelmed with emotion.

Her teeth bite down into her lower lip as she nods, "Yeah…yeah I am." And before either of them could utter any other words, he's on her, kissing her fiercely as the delicate rattle is released from his grip and drops to the carpeted floor.

Minutes fly by, and the only reason they separate their lips is to catch their breath. His forehead rests against hers and he's panting, "When did you find out? How long have you known?" His hand cups the side of her face as he waits for an answer, "…a little over a week. I couldn't figure out how to tell you so I asked my mom for the box of baby things she saved of mine. It's in the closet of one of the guest rooms. I figured you wouldn't find it there."

"A _baby_ ," he shook his head in disbelief, face amazed as he processes the news, "we're going to have a baby. _You're_ gonna give me a baby," his hand falls from her face and he takes a step back to take her in, "you're going to have my baby," he steps forward to capture her lips again. This felt like a long time coming. He's always pictured the day that she tells him she's pregnant but he's never imagined it to be like this.

Erin winds her arms up around his neck, her fingers curling into the hairs at the base of his skull, "I am having your baby."

She's _his_. And this baby is _his._ And they're _his_ family. And he doesn't know how he got to be so lucky. He doesn't know what he's done right in this world to deserve them.

"You're my life," he admits to her as his hand drops to find comfort resting against her stomach, "…both of you are." He looks down at her flat stomach and she lays her hand atop of his, "You continue to make me the happiest man on the planet."

Jay gives her stomach another caress before pulling her flush against him, "I want you to come on tour with me. I don't want to miss a second of this." She forgot about his tour, she forgot about the realities of his job.

"I have to work," she reminds, head falling onto his shoulder. He presses a kiss to her temple.

"Is there any way I can change your mind? I'm going to be on tour for six months."

Her arms wrap around his waist and she nuzzles her face further into his chest. "When do you leave?" He's told her but she keeps forgetting.

"…in two months."

"I should be out of my first trimester."

"I don't want to miss a doctor's appointment or the birth."

"And you won't," she hugs him tighter, "we'll make this work. I can work for as long as I can and then closer to the end, I'll join you on tour and stay with you."

"I don't want to leave you alone."

"I won't be. I have my guys here."

"…but I'm not," he admits. He's a bit worried.

"…but we'll make it work," she kisses him, "we've been wanting this for so long, I won't let you miss any of it."

-x-

And she keeps her word. Even when she's out of her first trimester and they'll be leaving on tour soon, they sat the band down, her family too, and broke the news because it take a village to raise a kid and if they want to work the band around her pregnancy then they all need to be in it together. Her mother is the happiest because she's been waiting on this for years.

Her dad, ha, he doesn't know how to feel, "I'm in shock and I'm feeling a mixture of emotions," he admits, smiling weakly, and it's truly the sweetest thing, "it's going to feel good to have the baby crawling around the White House."

"It'll be historic," Erin jokes, hugging her dad, squeezing him tightly.

Justin leaves the kitchen, the aroma of whatever is cooking is filling the air and it smells so good and she's so hungry. So hungry. Justin hugs her from behind, squeezing her tightly, and if she didn't get multiple reassurances from her doctor that this is a healthy pregnancy then she'd probably swat her brother away, "I'm really happy for the two of you. You deserve this more than anything and this kid's pretty lucky to have you both as parents."

Surprisingly he was the one who had the sweetest response. Her mother could barely form a coherent sentence and Justin was speaking so eloquently, hell must have frozen over because she would have never expected that to happen. But, it just goes to show the miracle of having a baby.

"What about the tour?" Rixton asks, tucking his photo of the sonogram into his wallet, "will Erin be joining us?" He looks over to his friend's wife, "You're joining us, right?"

Erin laughs, "I'll join in my third trimester. Fortunately in the early months of pregnancy, I don't have doctor appointments too often, but the later the pregnancy then the more appointments I'll have."

"…and I don't want to miss one," Jay adds, "and I definitely don't want to miss the birth."

"And what about your career," Camille is peering down at her copy of the sonogram, already wondering where she's going to hang it up at, "how are you going to balance all of that? I want you to enjoy your pregnancy sweetheart. I don't want you to overwork yourself."

"I've been talking with Jay and I feel what's best for me is to leave law," and she should have known her dad would need further clarification because the last thing he wanted for her is to leave her career while raising babies and supporting her husband's career, -it sounds like it's the fifties, "it's too time-consuming. It clashes with our schedules. And most importantly, I don't want to miss too much of my baby's early years, I don't want a nanny, I want to be there for everything and with Jay traveling, I want the baby to have at least one permanent fixture."

Voight moves forward, arms crossed over his chest, "Will you be returning to law eventually?"

"…if that's where life takes me," she admits because she honestly doesn't know if that's her passion; lately she's been feeling like it's a chore when she used to love going to work, love taking as many cases as possible, but now, not so much, "when my kid is old enough, if I still have that calling for law then I'll go back, Mills says I will always have a job with him, but if I don't want to go back, I'll do what my heart wants me to do."

And her dad is forced to accept it because it's not up for debate.

Jay supports her so her dad should too.

-x-

Erin turns around to look at her husband lounging in the bed, his hands crossed behind his head while his body remains on full display to her. Her canvas is blank, the paintbrush is in hand and she carefully starts to apply pressure to the blank canvas. He's already posed, a light, flirtatious smirk on his face as he watches her.

She's focused. She's biting her bottom lip and that's how he knows that she's in a zone. It only makes him want her.

And that small baby bump she's sporting only makes him want her more.

Erin's empty hand always finds itself resting against the slight curve of her stomach. She's wearing his button-up shirt and a white sports bra, but the shirt is wide open, falling loosely around her shoulders. And he doesn't know if he'll be able to pose for hours as she attempts to paint him as if she were a professional. She's wanted to do this for some time, and after taking multiple painting classes, she finally feels that she's where she needs to be, she's at least at an intermediate level of painting.

"Where are you going to hang that?"

Erin shoots him a look because apparently she needs silence and she needs him to keep still and hold the same pose, "...in our closet."

That makes him pout. He's lying down, naked, as she paints him only for it to collect dust in the back of their closet.

"What's the point of this then?"

"It's for my pleasure."

"...then why not hang it in here, our bedroom? Or your office?"

She pauses. She carefully sets the paintbrush down to make sure it doesn't drip and make a mess. Leaning to the side, to meet his eyes, she simply says, "I considered that and then I remembered I'll be having your kid in a few months and that kid will grow up and I would prefer not to scar my child at any point in his or her life. I'm pretty sure a naked picture of daddy painted by mommy will do just that."

And all he can follow her response up with is, "Touche." Because she made a good point. She was a successful lawyer for a reason.

-x-

He scooted down towards her overgrown belly.

She was ready to meet the baby. She was ready to have her body back. She was ready to have a bit more freedom and flexibility.

Erin sat up, resting against the headboard of their bed while Jay propped his head up with one hand as the other hand caressed her stomach. He leaned forward and peppered the lightest of kisses on her stomach, the scruff of his facial hair scratching against her skin, "I think," she runs her hand through his hair, brushing a few strands off his forehead, "that if the baby is a girl then we can name her after Nadia, maybe use Nadia as a middle name in honor of her."

"I think that would be beautiful. You're beautiful," he whispers. And she rolls her eyes as he continued to rub her stomach.

Her eyes met his as he continued to caress her belly with the softness of his palm and when he opened his mouth and sang, she fell in love with him even more.

-x-

It's a boy.

After waiting months to be surprised by the baby's gender, their little boy comes out a ball of pink, a little under nine pounds, kicking and screaming.

He's going to be a force to serve a good purpose in this world, especially with parents like Erin and Jay. And the two of them know that they'll be bombarded with requests of pictures and names, and even though they have no interest of showing his face anytime soon, they do post a photo of his little wrinkly hand wrapped around one of their fingers with his name as the caption,

 _Welcome to the world, Lucas Halstead. 8 pounds and 13 ounces_

-x-

"Do we want his image to go public?" Erin looked down at her son, who laid between his parents and stared up at the ceiling while kicking his little legs, "It can be dangerous. It can be tough and the internet can be cruel. This life, it's a life we chose, he doesn't deserve to be subjected to that, but at the same time, we can't hide him forever."

"I want to release a image of him under our own terms. I don't want paparazzi getting a photo and selling it to make a quick buck off of it."

"…under our own terms, I like that. Is there a way you had in mind?"

"There's no rush," he settles his hand against his son's tummy, "I'm sure it'll come to us when the timing is right." She nods because she agrees and the two of them seal their agreement with a kiss, their lips meeting in the middle, hovering above their baby as he continues to kick his legs and reach up into the air.

-x-

That idea comes to them in the form of a magazine cover where the proceeds from the magazine will go to the charity and organization of their choosing. It was the best way to ensure that no person gained money from the release of their kid's picture. And the countdown couldn't come quick enough because when they venture outside of their home for the first time, Lucas covered up because of the dropping temperature, it's absolutely ridiculous how many paparazzi attempt to sneak a picture, it's crazy that they have no sense of boundaries.

Who yells out questions when a baby is sleeping?

Who screams statements when a baby is silently cradled in his mother's arms?

No one has seen their baby and it's a reason for that. And if someone tries to take a picture of him again then Erin's afraid that Jay will do something that'll either get him a lawsuit or arrested. His hand is pressed against her lower back and his other hand is held up to keep the paparazzi away while Erin uses her arms to ensure that her son's face is covered both for privacy and protection. She doesn't want him to wake up from his scheduled nap. And she doesn't want his sensitive eyes bothered by the bright flashes.

"I said back the fuck up," he growls and the paparazzi can sense that this time he isn't playing. Her guys are spaced out, trying to keep as many of them away as possible, but for some reason a few of them always manage to slip through the barrier only to get arrested because the barriers are placed there for a reason.

Erin speeds up her walking, nestling her head down to use the baby's blanket to cover both his and her face. She hears him stir, and so does the paparazzi but that only makes them more persistent and eager to get a photo. She gets inside and she has no intentions of leaving until the magazine is released.

And when the photo is released, Lucas Halstead's name starts to trend worldwide and the paparazzi relax. They still want photos but they aren't as aggressive, they aren't as pushy and if the monetary proceeds going to a good cause wasn't reason enough to do it then her baby getting space from the overwhelming grown men and women invading his privacy does.

-x-

Lucas is wearing noise-cancelling headphones. They're so big and red around his small and innocent ears. And he has no idea about the loud noise that surrounds him as Erin holds him in her arms and rocks to the beat of his dad's song. He has no idea about a lot of things including the many people who are sneaking photos of him to post to social media, their camera roll filled with pictures of either their favorite celebrity on stage or their favorite celebrity's baby currently being rocked in his mother's embrace.

She stands in the front row, it's roped off from the rest of the auditorium and she's protected by her guards. It's more than halfway through her father's second term and she knows that after he serves his presidency, he'll be assigned a few guards but the rest of the family won't. She'll miss them but she'll keep in contact with them because they're practically family. It's been months since the end of Jay's tour, and this concert was schedule as a last minute addition and for some reason she convinced herself to go, more so because it's in Chicago, and even more so because she really needs to get out of the house and grant her and Lucas a breath of fresh air.

And it was one of the stupidest decisions they've ever made as parents.

And if they were to have any more kids, and she decided to show her face at his concert, then she would definitely be in the skybox.

She should have been in one today, especially with her baby, because when the fans grow rowdy and they run past the barriers in an effort to get to the stage, it becomes absolute chaos.

Erin doesn't know exactly when it happens. All she knows is a few fans break the barriers and rush towards the stage causing for more fans to follow. A lot of them push past her, push past Kim, in an effort to climb onto the stage but the arena's security and her husband's assigned guards try to stop them while her own guards surround her and Lucas. She feels Severide's arms wrap around her as the herd of fans continues to run, sending flashbacks of that Fourth of July night and if it wasn't for the baby in her arms then she'd be trying to protect Sorensen.

It lasts entirely too long. And the concert is cancelled because the band refuses to play after the wild actions. It was only one song they were able to perform before the stampede started and she has her kid in her arms, protective mommy mode jumping out when her guards are being pushed around her. They are the only thing standing in the way of the crowd and her kid and she knows that while majority of them are trying to get to the band, a few of them want pictures of her and her kid and she would be damned if they left with one.

"Get us out of here," she growls. And she's pissed because he's just a baby and these teenagers and adults can't act right for an hour.

By the time it's over, with help from city law enforcement, she's ushered backstage, her baby still wrapped up in her arms until Jay takes him from her. She doesn't even realize that she's backstage, she didn't even notice her guards getting them out of the auditorium and into a private back room. She doesn't snap out of it until her husband is with her. Jay's worried grip on her arm brought her crashing back into reality mere seconds later and she winced, struggling to relax in order to ease the sharp ache coursing through her shoulder. Her shoulder ache came from holding Lucas up for so long, but she doesn't regret it. And when she blinks out of her reverie to notice that her baby wasn't in her arms anymore, she sighs in relief when she sees him unbothered and untouched in his dad's arms.

Out of some miracle, Lucas falls asleep, and she doesn't know how he managed to do so while hearts are still racing, people are pacing and the workers are cursing at the subordinates who should have done more. She's calming down, or at least she's trying to and she steps forward to settle her hand against her son's back. Her husband's eyes appear watery, the color in them crisp and light under the fluorescent light, "Are you okay?"

The back of her thumb wipes away an escaped tear on his face, "I'm fine. We're fine. Are you okay? Most of the fans were trying to get on stage to all of you." She knows they meant no harm, she knows they acted out of sheer love and adoration of being in the same vicinity as their favorite celebrities. When Lucas makes a noise, typically a sound he makes before he starts crying, Erin briefly goes over to the diaper bag on the couch and grabs his pacifier from inside.

Jay swallows grimly as he steps away from her, an unusual look on his face, "I should have protected you better."

Judging by the speed in which she responds, shaking her head and grabbing his hand, she already presumed what he was going to say, "There was nothing you would have been able to do to prevent what happened." He's being irrational because it isn't his fault. He's just in shock. She moves in closer to put the pacifier in the baby's mouth.

That tension suddenly comes back; that shame and guilt he felt because he wasn't in the crowd with her, "I could have done something."

"How could you have prevented a mob of your fans, a mob that none of us saw coming from carelessly stampeding the stage? You would have just gotten hurt Jay. I was protected. Lucas was protected. My guys did their jobs."

"…yeah they did," he sighs, and reaches to grab the back of her head to bring her in closer and kiss her forehead, "…and maybe we put the brakes on you coming to my concerts and if you do come we'll put you in a skybox."

"I have no arguments against that," she blinks the traces of tears out of her eyes.

-x-

Lucas is running ahead of Erin and Severide as they walk along the park trail. The two of them have their eyes set on him as they talk, Kelly updating her on the recent changes in his life.

"She proposed," Erin gasps because Stella always manages to surprise her. Kelly nods to answer her question and he's wearing an engagement ring. That is just the sweetest, "and based on that shiny rock I assume that you said yes." Kelly nods again.

"How did she propose?"

Kelly scratched the back of his neck, "She uh, she took me to dinner and then we went back to her place and listened to music, slow danced and then she got down on one knee."

"I bet you were surprised."

Severide scoffed, "Ha, that's the biggest understatement of the century."

When Lucas runs past them, almost bumping into a stranger, Erin immediately grabs his arm to pull him back towards her and prevent him from wandering off too far, "And to think that I want another one of these," she says it like a joke but now she's beginning to wonder if she made the right decision. She could barely manage one kid; how will she handle two?

"Are you pregnant?"

Erin nods, "…twelve weeks." And before Erin can blink, he's lifting her up into his arms and kissing her cheek. Lucas laughs and he claps his hands even though he's unaware of why they're celebrating. He bounces on the balls of his feet, ignoring the people around them taking photos because apparently her kid is starting to grow used to having strangers take pictures of them.

It's sad, but there's not much she can do about it unfortunately.

Kelly sets her back down, "Sorry, I got excited. Congratulations Erin. I bet Jay is happy."

"He's ecstatic."

"You decided to get all your babies out right away, huh?"

She slaps his chest with the back of her hand, "Oh mama, no hitting," her own son betrays her and scolds her for the very same thing that she scolds him for. But, he's right.

"You're right buddy," she says, even though she meant no harm by the light hit and she was only joking with Kelly but her almost two year old doesn't know the difference, "mama shouldn't have done that. Sorry uncle Kelly."

"Apology accepted," he leans down and lifts the giggling toddler up into his arms, throwing him over his shoulder as the boy's laughter grows in volume and intensity. He dangles as they walk.

"…we wanted our kids to be close in age kind of like he is with Will and how I am with Justin."

"I get it," he nods.

"I'm just curious about when you and Stella are going to give my babies playmates."

And Severide laughs at that even though Erin didn't see the humor in her statement, "We're not having kids," and she should have figured that. He's never expressed any interest, "Sorry Er, I know you were looking forward to having our kids grow up together."

"Hey parenting isn't for everybody, at least you noticed it beforehand, some people don't find out until they actually have kids."

Severide wraps his free arm around Erin's shoulders, Lucas remains over his shoulder squirming and giggling from riding high above the ground in his uncle's arms.

"You'll just have to convince either Will and Natalie or Adam and Kim to pop out babies."

"Oh," Erin is suddenly reminded of more information to divulge to her closest friend, "I forgot to tell you. Kim and Ruzek just became foster parents. They were accepted. They should be receiving their first foster child this week."

-x-

It's a round of congratulations and well wishes when Jay breaks the news about his desire to go solo. It isn't the way they thought the band was going to take the news, but they're not going to complain about it. They thought the band members would be upset, that someone would probably storm out, that someone being Rixton and that maybe Mouse would be hurt since he was caught off guard by the news but no one was upset because no one was surprised.

"We kind of knew this was coming," Ruzek admits, scratching the back of his head as his eyes were trained on Oliver –their new foster child, "I guessed it based on the new music you've been writing. It was more centered on your life, your craft and it didn't really group in the rest of us."

It wasn't an insult. No one took it as one. This was healthy discussion.

"Let me get that for you," Rixton offers, lifting the hamper out of Erin's arms as she walked further into the living room. She had just finished doing the laundry and she was going to fold it in the living room, but she's in her second trimester and everyone is so protective that they barely want her walking to the bathroom alone.

"Thanks Kenny, but it wasn't heavy." She still allows for him to carry it.

Lucas is showing Oliver his new blocks, but his shy, new buddy appears to want to stay up under Burgess so Natalie crawls on over to play with them with her nephew, "Let's spell out your name." With him occupied, Erin tunes back into the conversation.

"I do think this is the best next step for you and your family," Mouse says, clasping his hand over Jay's shoulder, "I'm happy for you."

"…but does that mean I'm out of a job?" Kim sounds like she's joking. She lifts Oliver up into her arms but her eyes remain on Jay.

"No, I'll always need someone I trust in charge of my wardrobe," he reassures before turning to his brother, "and of course I'll need my brother to remain my manager, it's not too many people I would trust with the job and yes Natalie," he says looking over to his sister-in-law before she can chime in, "you're still on as my PR coordinator."

As she played with Lucas, helping the two year old stack his colored blocks in a way that spelt his first and last name, Natalie wanted to argue that she wasn't concerned because she knew she was the best and in the next coming weeks she'll have to perform the toughest part of her job, -announcing the breakup of the band. It's an announcement that did not go well, fans were devastated, heartbroken and there only solace and comfort was found in the reassurance that Jay will still be putting out new music.

-x-

Erin is going to pop any day now and it doesn't help that she's slow dancing with her husband while her two year old toddler stands on his feet and has his arms wrapped around his waist to rock along with them. He has his head lying against his dad's thigh; smile wide on his face as the band that Severide hired to play at his wedding belted out the instrumental to one of District 21's songs, "Mama," her little boy mumbled and it would have been hard to hear if not for the song ending, "I sleepy," his little fists rub against his eyes.

He's almost three years old. Her little boy, her little baby is growing up so fast.

Jay drops his hands, wrapping them under the arms of their son to lift him up into his arms. Luke wrapped his smalls arms around his dad's neck and cradled his face into the crook of it. Erin rubs her hand up and down her son's back, the tuxedo jacket he's wearing is absolutely too adorable on his small form. She wants to move closer, she wants to take him into her arms, but her stomach is too big and little Charlotte has been kicking more than normal and Lucas finds it bothersome so for the last few months he's chosen to rest on his dad's chest.

Erin's not too jealous. She kind of understands it.

"We should make our rounds and say goodbye." Jay nods at his wife's words, rubbing his son's back as the two of them make their way to the newlywed couple.

"Hey guys," Erin steps towards Severide and he draws her into a hug, "we're calling it a night but we wanted to say our goodbyes and we wanted to say congratulations again."

Stella smiles, "Thank you," she moves to stand behind Jay in order to try and see Luke's face, but he's fast asleep, "I see our little ring bearer here lost his battle to sleep."

"He's been worn out," Erin chuckled, moving out of Severide's arms, "this was a beautiful wedding Sev, and you had a beautiful bride."

"…and a beautiful best woman." She laughs upon hearing that.

He was her man of honor and she was his best woman. Screw tradition, sometimes it's okay to switch things up. Erin leans forward and kisses his cheek, "Have fun and be safe on your honeymoon and if you come back with a little playmate for Lucas or Charlotte then I won't complain," she says it as a joke but she already knows that neither Kelly nor Stella want children. And if they had any thought of changing their mind then the complaints of pregnancy, her energetic two year old and the struggles of labor reaffirmed their stance.

Lucas lifts his head briefly, his eyes tired and his lips pouting because he's tired and she only hopes that he falls back asleep instead of crying. He cries when he's tired, -like all children. He looks over at his mama and leans his arms out towards her and Erin smiles because you're damn right he wants his mommy and she doesn't hesitate to take him from Jay's arms, her husband and best friend helping the transition with as much ease as possible to ensure their little guy didn't accidentally bump her stomach. His legs are cradled around her belly and he leans forward to rest his head against her shoulder as she unhooks the bowtie around his neck to help him get more comfortable, "We'll be leaving soon," she whispers as the three of them head over to the tables full of their family and friends.

"Are you guys heading out?"

Jay sets his hand against his wife's lower back, "Yeah," he answers Ruzek, "Luke couldn't hang with the big folks so it's best we get out of here."

"Bye Luke," Kim whispers, approaching to kiss the sleeping toddler's cheek, "gosh, I can't wait to have this," and there's an underlying hint in her words, one that Erin tries to flush out.

"…and what are you waiting for? It would be great if our kids grow old together."

"We filed paperwork," Kim admits, stepping back to take in the facial expression of her two closest friends, "to officially adopt Oliver," he's the little guy –same age as Luke- that the two of them have been fostering for the last couple of months.

"…and when were you going to fucking tell us?" Erin is excited. If she wasn't pregnant and if she wasn't holding her sleeping son, then she'd probably be jumping up and down right now.

"Er, language…" Camille scolded, approaching the group after overhearing the news, "and that's amazing Kimberly. Congratulations. Hopefully it's a quick and painless process."

"…as long as no long lost relatives show up out of the blue then it should all work out." Kim and Adam share a kiss and if Lucas saw that then he'd cover his eyes with the palms of his hands.

Erin rocks forwards and backwards, holding her son against her even more than she originally was, "I'm so happy for the two of you," Erin doesn't know if they want any biological children in the future but the fact that they're adopting is just as big a blessing as birthing the babies themselves, "if you need any tips then I'd be happy to help. I like to consider myself a badass in the mom department, and don't judge me on the cursing, he's asleep."

"She's excited, too excited, maybe we should really get out of here before her excitement leads to her water breaking," Jay jokes. Erin rolls her eyes. But everyone that was a part of the conversation –Adam, Kim, her mother- all seem to agree.

"Fine," she sighs and maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing to go into labor since everyone wants her to be extra cautious; she doesn't need to be babysat or cared for like a child, "let's go but I swear Kimberly, the second I drop this kid, you and I are going drinking and then we're going to celebrate you joining the mommy club because it's been lonely and we're celebrating the fact that Oliver and Lucas are the same age and will grow up as besties."

Kim doesn't argue with any of that. She knows how long the adoption process can take; she only hopes that the adoption is a success.

-x-

Right now, Charlotte's lying on her play mat on the floor doing her daily tummy time while Erin lies on the floor with her. The baby can lift her head but only for a few seconds and her little legs kick while her hands are outstretched in front of her. Erin knows that at any second she'll cry and want to be moved, but every minute that passes that she doesn't, she counts as a blessing. Erin hears the pitter-patter of feet, her almost three year old racing through the entrance of her home after being presumably dropped off by her parents, or her brother, whichever felt like driving.

"Mommy, mommy, mommy," he chants, and Erin has to lift the baby off the floor before her rambunctious toddler stampedes over his sister. She stands up and has the baby up against her chest and reaches out to grab the back of her son's shirt to slow him down.

"Kid," she chuckles, "chill. I need you to relax." Lucas wraps his little arm around his mom's leg, his chin presses against her thigh and he peers up at her with such innocent eyes.

"That kid of yours," Camille sounds out of breath when she appears, "gives me a run for my money. I think Justin snuck him some ice cream. One second he's calm and the next second he's all over the place, climbing on grandpa Hank and talking nonstop about airplanes."

Airplanes, that's his new obsession.

Camille walks over and kisses her daughter's forehead before rubbing her hand up and down her granddaughter's back. The television is on but it's muted. She had been watching the news ever since Jay left early this morning but she lowered the volume when the stories started to become repetitive. Now that her toddler is back, she'll probably change the channel to Sesame Street or Arthur, two of his favorite shows, but before she can start searching for the remote, she spots a familiar face on her television screen. There's a clip of Jay at a soup kitchen; he's got an apron on and is serving something that resembles green beans while talking animatedly to the people he's serving. She's not sure why this is being covered on the national news, but she's happy about it because it means she can get a glimpse of her husband even when he's not home.

"Look mommy," Lucas exclaims, jumping up and down as he points at the TV, "there's daddy. He's on the TV. Look Charlie," he bounces over to his sister, gently grabbing her hand and shaking it in an effort to get her attention. Erin doesn't think she's really recognizing anything or understanding a word that Lucas is rambling but the sentiment is cute because Lucas doesn't realize that his sister has no idea what he's exclaiming.

Nico walks into the room, approaching Lucas and rubbing his head against the toddler's leg. Her baby boy ditches her and Charlotte in order to focus on their dog, dropping to his knees and throwing his arms around Nico's neck, "Hi," he mumbles into the fur coat of their German Shepard, "I missed you so so so so so so much." He's such a talkative toddler. And maybe that's all toddlers, but because he's her first kid, everything that he does is new for her, but she likes to think that Lucas is different; he's a special kind of kid.

"Be gentle, don't squeeze him so tight," Erin reprimands. She's exhausted. Her shirt is covered in spilled milk and baby spit up. Her hair is up in an unwashed ponytail. And she knows that at any moment Jay will be home, once he leaves the soup kitchen, unless the footage she just saw on the news was pre-recorded from hours ago.

Lucas lightens his hold around Nico's neck and the dog starts to lick his sweet face. It seems that Nico is the most patient out of all of them; he's so careful and protective of the little ones that he rarely snaps or growls when one of them pulls his tail and hugs him too aggressively. It's like he knows they're babies and they mean no harm.

"Sweetheart," Camille calls out to her grandson, "you came in here running and excited because you had something to tell your mommy." He must have gotten distracted by seeing his dad on the news and then he was distracted once again by Nico's presence.

"Oh, mommy, mommy," he starts to jump up and down again, and his words aren't that clear but because Erin's so used to how her almost three year old speaks, she understands him perfectly, "when uh, when we were in the car, daddy's song came on."

"…really?" Erin said in mock surprise.

"Yes," he continues to jump up and down and the pure joy that she sees from her baby boy from simply hearing one of his dad's songs has her swooning, "it was," he looks at his grandma for help because he either couldn't remember the name of the song or he couldn't pronounce it.

"Once Upon a Time," Camille answers, rubbing her grandson's back, "he keeps wanting to call it fairytale because all of his fairytale books start off like that."

It's such a good song, a song talking about how all of his hopes, wants and dreams have come true, kind of like a fairytale so Lucas wasn't completely off in his thinking. It's one of the biggest hits on his first solo album that has taken –according to the press and fans- entirely too long to be released, but it truly came out at the perfect moment. Jay's first solo album came out when it needed to come out, there was no rush and no purposeful delay. It may have taken years, but that's because he wanted the best for his fans, he wanted to close loose ends with his band and he refused to put his work and his album before his family.

So it came out when it was finished and if that took years, well then, they'll get over it. As the saying goes, Rome wasn't built in a day. And perfection truly does take time.

-x-

Jay sits on the floor in the nursery, legs stretched out with Charlotte in a crawling position as she travels freely around her room. He watches her. He's holding up a toy, wiggling it around in the hopes that she'll want to crawl to him to get it. She's been crawling for over a week and every time she moves from one point to another, he can't help but clap in joy and amazement, Lucas is usually hooting and hollering out cheers for his sister.

"Babe," Erin pokes her head into the room. Charlotte starts crawling towards her, the traitor, Erin doesn't even have a toy in her hand and the baby goes to her. His wife takes a seat on the floor and Charlotte crawls into her lap.

"What's up? Is everything okay?"

"I just got off the phone with Severide. He's not going to continue in politics."

Jay truly doesn't know where she's taking this conversation. He knows that since she stopped working as a lawyer and staying home with their babies that she always felt like she was missing something, so with Severide not running for re-election, does that mean she wants to run?

"I don't want to run," she clarifies, already knowing where his mind was taking him, "I thought maybe politics would be where I ended up, considering I've been following in my dad's footsteps but I don't think that's what I truly want to do. I always thought because my dad has a nice record in politics, because he was a two term president and because people kept telling me that I'd make a great politician which I'm not sure if it's a compliment or not that it was a dream of mine, that I was meant to run. I convinced myself that it was something I'm supposed to do."

"Babe," he reaches forward and wraps his hand around her ankle, pulling her foot onto his lap before grabbing and pulling the other one, "What is it that you _want_ to do?"

"I don't want to do politics. It's too messy and I know how it feels to be in the limelight as a politician's daughter and I figured the kids will already be in the light because of your job and that's okay because it's different being known for entertainment versus politics. The love is there because of your talent, not your beliefs, we can argue beliefs but you can't argue talent and it gets really intense when it comes to politics and I want to spare myself, spare you and our babies of that," Charlotte uses Erin's body to pull herself up to her feet, holding on to her mother's shoulder as Erin continues to ramble, "I don't want to be a politician, but I want to help people."

"…so what did you have in mind?"

"I want to open a non-profit," she says in one breath as if Jay would disagree with her, "with Kelly's help. We want to open one in honor of Nadia, to help women like Nadia and since I still have my law degree, to maybe do pro bono work for people who can't afford good counsel. But I need you to be honest with me, is that a stupid idea?"

And this was just another reason on a long list of reasons why he loves her so much. He sits up on his knees and moves towards her, crawling towards her to eagerly press his lips against hers, "…the only thing stupid about this whole conversation is you doubting yourself," he whispered against her warm lips, "I think that's a great idea and I think your heart is always in the right place and if Severide is going to be your partner in all of this then that's perfect because I don't want you overworking yourself. And if there's anything that I can do to help move this along then don't hesitate to let me know. I'll do what you need." She kisses him. Hard. Charlotte is squeezed and stuck in the middle of her parents, giggling softly because she thinks it's a game.

And in just a few short months the blueprint, the groundwork and the contracts are drawn up and the first steps are taken to start Erin and Kelly's nonprofit organization.

-x-

Lucas, he's an angel, truly he is, but he's three years old and Erin knows that at some point her brother must have slipped him a piece of candy because he's acting like a rambunctious demon, running through the empty rows in the stadium that Jay will soon perform in for the first time, solo. Everyone's here for support, -her parents, her brother, the former band and his brother. All were here, holding poster boards and cardboard cutouts of her husband's face in support of such a huge accomplishment. He's officially a solo artist. His first solo album has gone platinum in under a month after its release. Mouse, who seemed to always be busy with either planning his wedding with Hallie or running his own music production company had even managed to surprise them all with his appearance. Ruzek and Burgess, who recently officially became the adopted parents of the three year old little boy they've been fostering for months, had graced them with their presence alongside little Oliver who was the complete opposite of Lucas with his shyness and his fear of leaving his new mommy's side. He had his tiny arms wrapped around Kim's leg so tight that she couldn't walk without almost knocking him over. And it's Rixton's presence that surprises them all; since the breakup of the band, he's been living off his luxuries and royalties, traveling the world with an international model on his arm. They had all chalked it up to her being the flavor of the week, but now that their relationship is going into its second month, it's starting to look serious, especially since he brought her to the concert, wanting her to meet the family, "and guys this is Emily," he finished the introduction.

For an internationally known model, she appears to be shy. She stays at Rixton's side and waves at them all. Jay goes the extra mile though and extends his hand for her to shake and the band all takes his lead. Erin doesn't though. It's not because she's rude, she would typically follow suit, she's had enough training in diplomatic relations but she's a bit preoccupied right now. She has her energetic one year old, her little Charlotte Nadia Halstead, standing in front of her, both hands held by Erin as she firmly stands behind her daughter. Her little wobbly legs are bouncing up and down to the music overflowing through the speakers in the stadium; it's almost time for the doors to open to let the crowd in and she would prefer if her family was out of the way when it happens. No offense to Emily, truly none, but she has kids to get out of the way before the fans come in, and if that comes across as rude then for the time being she'll have to appear as such. She'll make up for it later.

"Luke," she calls out his name and at some point her boy must have gotten hot because his jacket was no longer on him, but now resting crumbled up on the floor, "get your jacket and come on."

It's like he doesn't hear her. Or it's like her words went through one ear and out of the other. He continues to fly; arms spread wide open as he mimics an airplane weaving through the air. He's running down the empty aisles, weaving through rows as he makes airplane noises.

"Buddy," her three year old is suddenly pulled to a stop when Jay grabs the back of his shirt, ceasing all running before he's lifted and thrown over his dad's shoulder, -he laughs, "Mommy told you to do something. What did mom say?"

"…my…my jacket," he says in between laughs. So, he did hear her.

Jay carries the kid over to his jacket and sets him down, "Go ahead buddy."

Lucas, only a little calmer than he once was, grabbed his jacket and dragged his feet over to his mom, pouting his little lips because he knows, oh he knows, that that face gets to her. It gets to her all of the time, but she's working on it though. He holds the jacket up to her, bottom lip trembling, "Sorry mommy, I listen better next time, here you go."

Erin stoops down, carefully removing her hands from baby girl's grip in order to settle her left hand against Charlotte's waist while her right reaches out for the jacket, "Are you hot?"

"I got hot from running," her little articulate man whispers, almost afraid of his mother's reaction because he didn't listen to her earlier command, "I don't wanna wear it."

"Okay," she gives him a gentle smile, one reassuring enough to let him know that he's not in any trouble before she throws the jacket over her shoulder, "come here," she holds her arm up and open and waits for him to walk into her embrace, "I love you kid," she presses a kiss against the side of his head causing for his blonde hair to tickle her nose.

"Lukeeeeeeee," Justin sang out, only for her three year old to betray her and pull out of her embrace to turn and take off in his uncle's direction, "my main man." He crouches down and lifts his nephew up into the air, before flying him around like an airplane, making dips and turns through the air. And now Erin knows exactly where he learned it from…

Erin shook her head as a small smile bloomed across her face. With her hand still resting on the hip of her daughter, she turned her head to meet the baby blue eyes of her little one, "You're not going to ditch me, are you?"

Charlotte most likely did not process what she just said but she gave her a four-tooth smile anyway and Erin will take that as a yes. Out of excitement, she leaned over and started pressing back to back kisses against the side of Charlotte's neck, making the one year old's legs go weak as she stumbles against her mother's chest in laughter. That innocent baby chuckle…ah, it just does wonders to her eardrums.

"Babe," Jay calls out as he casually walks over, decked in all leather and eyeliner shaping his eyes, all dressed up and dolled out for his performance that'll start in half an hour, "the doors are about to open," he leans down and lifts Charlotte up into his arms, setting her against his side as he reaches a hand out to help his wife up, "if you want a head start to the VIP booth then I'd suggest you get a move on it." He's right but Erin doesn't want to move out of his orbit, she just needs a few more seconds, "I love you," he picks up on her hesitance to walk away.

"I love you too," Erin wraps her arms around his waist and leans into his embrace, "so much," she rises to the tip of her toes to kiss him, only for Charlotte to giggle and push her back with her little hand, "You don't like me kissing daddy?" It was a rhetorical question that was answered when Erin kissed her husband again and her one year old repeated her earlier action. She thought it was funny and the joy of hearing a baby laugh was so exhilarating that they wanted to continue but they knew that time was of the essence. His first concert on his new tour was about to start.

Charlotte leans against her dad's shoulder, head faced outwards, four of her little fingers in her mouth as she watches the chaos around her. Natalie and Will are in front of her, making the most ridiculous faces that Erin hopes the hired photographer is capturing pictures of. Jay kisses the back of his daughter's head before wrapping his arm around his wife's shoulders, "Headphones are already up there for baby one and baby two."

"What about kid three?" Kim asks, lifting her own son up into her arms.

"I already have a pair," Ruzek lifts them up. Burgess smiles and carries her toddler away.

"Good luck babe," Erin turns her head to allow her lips to meet his, "or I guess break a leg. I'm sure you'll do great, you're going to kick ass," she whispers the last bit against his mouth. She steps out of his arms when they're given the warning again about doors opening soon. Jay, Will, Burgess and Natalie need to go behind the stage while they head up to the VIP booth. So after carefully pulling Charlotte into her arms, grabbing her soft yellow blanket from her mother to drape it around her baby's back, she heads out of the auditorium, following behind her family as they go upstairs to the skybox to watch her husband's first official concert as a solo artist.

Erin was so proud of him, proud of how far he's come and everything he's managed to accomplish in all the years she's known him. And even the years before she did. She's grateful for all he's done, for all that he's provided her, namely the two biggest treasures in her life. It's hard to believe that it all started in front of a coffee shop, two different souls living in polar opposite worlds colliding together both literally and figuratively, crossing that fine line and intertwining the world of politics and entertainment. It's hard to forget all they've overcome, the adversity placed upon them by their own loved ones, by their fans, by the long distance and time apart, but yet, they came out on top. For now, and forever, and with that thought in mind, Erin passed Charlotte off to her parents, allowing them to strap the noise-cancelling headphones around her ears as she pulled out her cell phone, waiting and watching as the stands filled with fans before eventually her husband came out and started the show of a lifetime.

She takes a photo of him.

She takes a couple. And she posts a montage on all her social media platforms.

And before she closes out the app to enjoy the moment, to make another memory for herself and her children, she adds a caption to it, the words flowing out straight from the heart.

 _You are my best friend. You are my lover. You are my husband. You are the father of my babies. You are my shoulder to cry on, my support system, my heart, my one and only person, my everything. As I watch you fulfill your dreams tonight as a solo artist, I stand here in awe. As I watch your babies watch their daddy perform, as I watch your babies see and embrace the love you're getting from strangers, from fans, I know that this is one of the best things you could have done for your family. I'm excited for the journey you'll take us on as we travel the world, as we watch you perform in different cities and area codes, as we witness firsthand how much you're loved internationally. To the first stop of your world tour, congratulations baby. I wouldn't want to be anywhere but here. You always manage to make me fall in love with you more and more each and every day. I love you so much. Happy anniversary, Jay._

 _-Your wife, your lover and your best friend, Erin._


End file.
